


Open Circle

by Calyss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 100k+ of slowly burning to death, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence - Revenge of the Sith, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Visions, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Illustrated, Jealousy, Jedi Council Fucking Up Big Time, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obi-Wan embracing the Dark Side Look, POV Multiple, Possessive Behavior, Prophetic Dreams, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sexual Content, Sith Obi-Wan, Sith Shenanigans, Slow Burn, Sparring, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, because they're fucking idiots, don't read if anidala is your otp guys, i guess, it's really an obikin fic, sleep deprivation is the real enemy here, what do you want the Sith Aesthetic is too strong to resist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 113,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyss/pseuds/Calyss
Summary: Finding one single person in an entire galaxy? Harder than finding a pin in a haystack, but not impossible. Bringing back a fallen Jedi to the Light? Anakin doesn't have much hope to succeed but he will do it, or die trying.Because Obi-Wan fell for him.





	1. Blood In The Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pfffffff i have like 3 wips on here and i'm starting a new fic  
> great

_“...here a... you, An… in?? Anakin???”_

The holo is of poor quality, the blue tinted image of Padmé going out every few seconds, her voice covered by white noise that flares up and cut off its sound. Communications with the Core are a delicate matter in the Outer Rim, even more so when all you have is severely out of date coms. He’s lucky he’s been able to reach his wife with what little he has to work with. Even more lucky she’s taken his call, what with the odd ID and her busy schedule. He’s pretty sure it will be his last call for at least several days. If he’s lucky.

“Chidna System. I think. Never heard about it before. And the locals have some heavy accent.”

Padmé leans forward over what he assumes is her desk, even though the holo doesn’t show it. She’s clearly anxious, a look he doesn’t like on his wife’s usually carefully schooled features.

_“Have… found him yet?”_

He rubs a hand over his tired eyes, sighing.

“The trace is cold. He’s left days ago.”

Padmé’s image flickers out and when she appears again, her expression is one of sadness and lassitude.

_“Are you… ing to k... searching?”_

“I have to. You know that, Padmé.”

She nods, but he can tell that it’s more resignation than true acceptance. She’s tired of this, and with reason. He’s been gone for months, now, and even though they’re used to distance and absence, it’s never been like that. Even at the worst of the Clone Wars – though what was “the worst”, exactly? Anakin isn’t sure they’re out of that yet, even this far in the Outer Rim - bordering Wild Space - there are traces of it and the conflict doesn’t seem to want to relent – they’d always managed to steal a day here, a few hours there, when he was on leave or she had a meeting cancelled. Damn, they’d even managed to see each other in the midst of battle or critical missions!

“I have to go now,” he says reluctantly. “I have to meet someone. A smuggler. I don't know if he's going to be there long. But he definitively had artifacts...”

She nods again.

_"Call again soon… akin, please. I hate not knowing...ing if you’re alright or… ven alive.”_

“I’ll try. Goodbye, angel. I love you.”

_“I love you, Anakin. Be… areful.”_

He powers off the holocom, plunging the cockpit of the piece of junk ship he’s won only a week earlier in silence. Sighing loudly, the Jedi leans back in the pilot’s chair. He’s tired. And bordering on hopeless. Even talking to Padmé – oh, so briefly – hasn’t lifted his spirits. He’s so ready for this chase to end. Ready to go home.

But he can’t.

 

* * *

 

Dochidna is another dustball, some Force-cursed clone of Tatooine, and he hates it with all his heart – before remembering that he isn’t supposed to hate. So he stops in the middle of the paved, sandy street, close his eyes and try to let the feeling go. _You’re not here for the landscape,_ he reminds himself as people wade around him, ignoring the weirdo in their midst. _You’re not here for the climate. You have a mission. Focus_. He opens his eyes, then, and keeps on walking, feeling marginally less disgusted, but only because anguish has surged in him yet again as the thought of what seems more and more like a doomed task.

_Get a grip, Skywalker._

He has never been that bad at it, keeping his emotions in check. Well, he's always been pretty bad at it, actually, but this is a new low. He had troubles with it during his first years as a Padawan, and even when he’d finally got a grip on the whole peace and serenity thing, there had still been surges, moments in which he would loose control, bursting with rage, grief or even love. But now it’s constant, and he isn’t sure if it’s because he’s months away of any authority figure – no Masters to breath on his neck and tell him to _go meditate, Skywalker_ – or because of the nature of his mission.

Well, self appointed mission. No Council member had sanctioned it, Master Windu outright forbidding it. They needed him, he’d said, clearly not happy about this admission. The Order’s ranks are thinning, and Anakin is supposed to lead a consequent part of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Of course he has ignored it. He's left the fleet into Ahsoka hands, torn between guilt - she doesn't need that much responsibility at such a young age - and confidence that if someone can handle the Open Circle, it's her. His Padawan knows those men, and the Clones love and respect her.

 _She's doing fine_ , he reminds himself. That's one of the first things Padmé told him today, that Ahsoka is alright, that the Council is on the verge of making her a Knight - and how his wife knows such a thing, he wonders - even in Anakin's absence. That she's lost very few battles and won a great deal for the Republic. 

She doesn't need him.

Lost in his thoughts, Anakin almost walks straight by his destination. It's a cantina like they are millions in the Galaxy, only just a bit more miserable looking than the norm. It's cool inside, at least, and the local fauna doesn't smell too badly. 

 

* * *

 

The smuggler is a human-ish male named Kobel, with sleek black hair, cat-like eyes and a few inches over Anakin, something that he seems to very much appreciate. He crowds him in as they lean at the bar, a smug smile on his thin lips and a hungry look in his eyes as he evades Anakin’s questions. Confusion - he knows he must look terrible right now, for a variety of reasons - and fury flares up in the Jedi, unchecked. He has no time for those games, and he promptly waves a hand in front of the smuggler’s eyes.

“Tell me the truth.”

Kobel’s expression changes into one of distress and he leans back, finally giving Anakin some air.

“He seduced me,” the smuggler says. “He stole my ship.”

Anakin wants to hit something.

"Where did he go?"

"Outta this shithole planet, he said."

Despite himself, Anakin raises a doubtful eyebrow. 

"He said it like that?" Then he shakes his head. It doesn't matter. "Where?"

"I don't know."

"I will need your ship IDs."

A strangled laughed escapes Kobel, some life returning to him.

"It's a smuggler ship, man, it doesn't..."

"Then you'll describe it to me."

 

* * *

 

Back on his ship, Anakin goes straight to the narrow fresher packed in the back, shedding the dark cloak he'd been wearing outside on his way - even so far away from the Core, he'd rather endure the heat than risk being recognized, be it by friend or foe. There he plants himself in front of the mirror and, taking a deep breath, takes off the now sand-stiff patch that covers the right side of his face.

It's not as painful as it used to be, and not as bad looking. He was kind of afraid he'd been disfigured at first - although it was admittedly the least of his worries - but after a few weeks, it looks like he'll only have a moderate scar.

He trails a finger over it, hissing a bit at the sensation.

_"Something to remember me by."_

As if he could forget. As if he could give up.

Anakin's eyes go to their reflection in the spotted mirror. He's almost surprised to find them still blue, if a bit reddened by lack of sleep and barely contained tears. For is mind is taken by sickly yellow. Sith eyes staring at him, full of pain and anger. 

_"She'll see me every time she looks at you now."_

If Anakin ever tells her. She knows he's been wounded, has seen it through the holo the last time he commed her. But he hasn't told her how. It doesn't matter. Anakin sees him enough for both of them. He sees him everywhere, except he doesn't, really. Not since Mustafar and their fight on the bank of a river made of fire. He can't seem to catch up to him, always too late, always too slow.

Tearing his gaze away from the mirror, Anakin opens the sink's tap, warm water coming out of the ship's overheated cistern with loud clanks of decades old piping. He splashes some over his face, hissing again at the sensation of water over his scarring wound, runs his fingers into matted hair - it says probably more about the locals than about him that Kobel seemed attracted to the mess he presents. Then he rummages around for some fresh bandage.

A cursory glance at his reflection confirms that he looks only barely better, but it will do for now. A more extensive questioning of the smuggler told him of the nearest hub, some miner run asteroid a day or so away. Kobel's ship wasn't furnished for a long trip, so there is a chance he might pick up a trail there. And if not there, some other place like it. He knows his mark well enough to guess which kind of places he will favor as he travels.

Or so he hopes.

_I didn't knew him enough to predict his Fall._

He grinds his teeth at the depressing thought and goes back to the cockpit. He sets the coordinates and, finally, flies away from Dochidna.

_I'll catch you this time, Obi-Wan._


	2. Wake Up

Anakin wakes up with a jolt, almost falling off the pilot’s chair. He feels a presence, as if someone’s watching him from the back of the cockpit. He turns around, searching the dimness of the ship, but he’s alone. He’s still in hyperspace, and a quick look at the dashboard tells him that he has slept less than two hours.

He leans back in the chair, groaning at the stiffness of his back. He should have went to the bunk as soon as he’d entered hyperspace. Maybe he would have slept longer, then. But he’d been too agitated to bear laying down, and he’d spent half of the journey from Dochidna fixing various pieces of equipment, staring with the holocomm.

He closes his eyes again, this time focusing on this presence that woke him.

It’s elusive and slippery but at the same time… familiar.

His heart misses a beat as he realizes just _how_ familiar – if terribly, horrifyingly twisted - it is and he tries and grab at it, projecting with all his might into the current of the Force but he has lost what little focus he had managed to achieve and he’s tired and he’s panicking more and more as Obi-Wan’s slips away from him, until he can’t feel anything around him but the warped void of space.

“FUCK!”

He stands up, anger and frustration bursting out and he doesn’t even realizes as he sends objects flying trough the ship – rations, tools, the holocomm on which he spent so much time earlier – and starts walking back and forth in the limited space. It doesn’t alleviate his anger, only accentuating his frustration as he feels caged and powerless.

“ _What the fuck was that?!_ ” he screams to the zooming stars that flash through the windshield.

Of course no answer comes, and Anakin falls to the ground, sits huddled against the hard metal of the console and puts all his will into not breaking into tears.

 

* * *

 

He’s somewhat calm again when he lands on Baskara two hours later, if a bit nervous – the kind of nervousness that comes with not trying to get too exited, or hopeful, because by now he has come to the conclusion that if Obi-Wan has managed to reach him, then he must not be very far away.

_But then he must know that I’m coming._

And, well, Anakin isn’t sure what would be the result of Obi-Wan knowing he’s there. For a while he’d thought that the Fallen Jedi wanted him to follow. But lately he doubts it more and more.

_But didn’t he said…?_

He’s torn away from his thoughts by someone hitting on his ship’s side. Looking through the windscreen reveals a plump twi’lek that immediately reminded Anakin of Orn Free Taa, flanked by two besalisks that look so similar they have to be brothers. He looks self important and very impatient, waving at him to come out.

“Pay the fee if you want to keep ya ship,” the twi’lek says before Anakin has even the chance to come all of the way outside. “And give me ya name for the registry.”

This is both annoying and opportune. If he doesn't spook the twi'lek or his two strong-arms, he can maybe access that registry and get an idea if he's wasting his time here or not.

"Of course," Anakin says, smiling as politely as he can muster.

A handful of credits, a wave of the hand and a few murmured words allow him to drag the twi'lek away from the two besalisks, who look at them suspiciously but don't utter a word. There he plucks the datapad out of his hands and scrolls down lists of names and dates.

He almost misses it, and it's probably only thanks to his training and years spent tracking people using such pseudonyms that his brain manage to make the connection. And maybe also because Obi-Wan's fall seem to has come with some form of sentimentalism he had yet to see in him - or maybe the other way around, feelings contained for too long bursting out of his Jedi shell, no longer willing to be kept inside. Showing off even through something as anecdotal as a temporary fake name.

_Ben Tachi._

He's heard Satine Kryze call him Ben, been both amused and annoyed by it at the time. And he seen Siri Tachi's name on old mission reports he had to study for classes. She'd been Obi-Wan's friend. But he's never been told directly by Obi-Wan about any of it, so maybe his former Master would think that he didn't know about those names, or that he'd forgot.

He's a bit surprised by it himself, but he hasn't.

Without any remorse, he grabs back his credit from the somewhat stunned twi'lek, give him back his datapad and goes back to his ship to grab a back. He fills it with a change of clothes, some supplies and...

His hands are trembling, artificial and organic limbs alike. He press them together for a moment, until he the trembling subside.

 _It's going to be alright_ , he tells himself. _He's here. He hasn't left yet. You're going to find him_.

For the first time in weeks, a genuine - if tentative - smile forms on his lips.

 

* * *

 

Baskara is more vast and populous than the smuggler on Dochidna let him think. There are plenty of places to stay, even more to conduct business, legal or not. He has a pretty good idea what kind Obi-Wan might seek, and he knows his preferences in lodging.

First off, there's no way that he's staying on the smuggler's stolen ship - but Anakin still checks there, in case something has been left behind - because the thing is an even worse piece of junk than what Anakin's got. No, Obi-Wan will want a real room, with a real bed, now that he isn't bound anymore by the idea that he has to renounce personal comfort in the name of the Code. Someplace quiet, clean but cheap enough that no one will ask questions if he makes a mess. And he can talk all he wants about _diplomacy_ Obi-Wan does leaves messes behind, almost as much as Anakin. Explosions and severed limbs have always been regular occurrences wherever they go, as if they’re some disturbance in the Force, some agents of chaos. And, well, maybe they are, even so more now than before, with Obi-Wan ceding to the Dark Side and Anakin being… Whatever the fuck the _Chosen One_ is supposed to be.

As he walks through the busy streets, Anakin lets his mind wander, gently prodding at the thin tether that has been linking him to his Master for nearly a decade and a half. The bond is only a shadow of its past self, weakened by the events of the past months. Most of the time it's like it isn't even there, and this absence is probably one of the biggest reasons for Anakin's now quasi constant state of distress. He was so used to its reassuring warmth, to the certitude that, whatever words him and Obi-Wan may have, he would still be there at the end of the day. Now he's drowning in his loneliness and his lifeline only seems to go slacker as time goes by.

_I can't even tell that he's near._

He roams for hours, stopping at inns and bars and asking questions and mind-tricking more people than is probably reasonable. Twice he stumble upon individuals that seem too confused about what he's asking for it too be due to simple ignorance or the effects of alcohol. Those have had their minds jumbled, he knows it, by Force-suggestion, and there is nothing more frustrating that knowing that they've encountered his friend but can't tell a word about it. Oh, he could force his way to the deepest recesses of their memory, unlock the missing fragments forcefully, but the state he would leave them in is a fate worse than death and he's promised himself that he wouldn't stoop so low. He's here to save Obi-Wan, not lose himself alongside him.

Finally when he can't keep walking, less he falls over and sleeps there on the street, he checks in for the night - even though he isn't really sure it's actually night, the asteroid is too far away from the sun for natural light to be more than a vague, grayish hue - in some half-decent hotel and falls asleep only seconds after his head has hit the thin pillow.

He dreams of Mustafar. Big surprise. It's taken the place of the Senate massacre as his recurring nightmare as soon as he was off the fiery planet. Well, as soon as he's been able to get some sleep after that. He dreams of Obi-Wan, offering him his hand, asking him to come with him, to forsake the Order, to help him put an end to the war - _our way, we can do it, you know it_ \- and of his own fury - _how could you, you knew what it meant to me, he never would have_ \- but this time...

This time he doesn't say anything. This time he takes the proffered hand. Takes back the link he's been deprived of. Takes back his friend, his mentor, his...

Anakin wakes up with a jolt, almost falling off the bed. He feels a presence, as if someone’s watching him from the corner of the room.

He knows he's alone, and yet he doesn't feel as lonely. Their bond is alight, not with the pure light it has shone with for so long, not as strong, not as safe, but it's more than the mere shadow it was only a few hours before.

He stumbles out of bed, grabs his clothes, puts on his boots. He knows where to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy, you should have stayed in bed


	3. Follow Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn I don't know if I'll be able to keep this rhythm for long but for now it feels damn good to be writing again! :D  
> Also thanks for the comments?! Those are good comments! Glad you're liking it guys! :)

Anakin follows the bond to the mining district, a mass of warehouses and excavation sites, the shapes of enormous drilling machines poking here and there from between the buildings. There's no respite in the activity, workers coming in and out as to assure that the production doesn't stop, and the noise of drilling is a constant, harsh song. It makes it hard to focus, even for someone used to the clamor of battles. But Anakin holds fast onto the thread, stubbornly closing off his mind to anything that isn't Obi-Wan - which earns him elbow jabs and thrown insults from the passerby as he walks blindly into their path but see if he cares - and it leads him to one of the warehouse, one that, curiously, doesn't seem to be used for any kind of mining business. Or maybe its proprietor deal in precious stones, for all the crates he can see from behind the barbed fence that enclose it are small and heavily enforced.

There are guards making rounds, too, and he's starting to have a really bad feeling about this.

Of course he ignores it. He isn't called the Hero With No Fear for nothing. 

Propelled by the Force, he vaults over the fence, landing behind one of the guards who promptly gets acquainted with a wall, before sliding to the ground, unconscious. Anakin winces as the sound of the man's head hitting the hard surface but, well, concussions heal. He drags him in the shadows between two crates and starts in direction of the nearest door.

He's not as quick as Artoo when it comes to opening doors, but he's still quick enough that no other guard passes by as he works on it. 

Inside there is more crates. Lots and lots of crates. His training and the sense of duty instilled by years spent at the service of the Orders tell him to open one just to see what kind of business he has stumbled upon - _it could be illegal! it could be dangerous! it could be weapons for the Separatists!_ \- but, well, actually, he doesn't really care. So he ignore them and starts making his way to the hallway opposite him.

Of course that's when he senses half a dozen life forms coming his way, and he has to duck behind the nearest crate.

Not that he couldn't beat six persons in his sleep. But if the Clone Wars taught him something, it's that discretion and spywork - and through them, information - can make all the difference between creating an even bigger mess and solving a problem.

"We found it drilling into Thenn Cove a few years back," one of the new comers says as a light is switched on. "Can't even start to guess how it ended up there. 't'was untouched rock. Not even a crack to fall in."  

"I've seen stranger things."

That voice. It sounds utterly bored, and the words ring with that unmistakable accent that haunts Anakin's dream.

Fingers digging into the hard wood of the crate that's hiding him from the others, Anakin pulls himself up just high enough so that he can look over it.

His heartbeat kicks up at the sight that welcomes him. He's here. _Really_ here. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him!

He looks good. Healthy and comfortable in his own skin. He's wearing dark grays, in a fashion similar to his usual Jedi get up but made of a fabric that looks lighter, more fluid than the heavy wool he used to favor. A black saber hilt his hooked to his belt, and Anakin can see his thumb sweeping over it slowly, a silent menace to anyone who would think it's a good idea to mess with him. He looks lean, lethal, and clearly in control of the exchange.

It annoys Anakin a bit because, well, he knows what he must look like right now, crouched in the shadows with clothes askew, hair in disarray and deep bags under his eyes. And here Obi-Wan is, looking _just fine_. But the feeling quickly goes away when yellow eyes catch the light, and he feels chilled to the bone and he wishes, for the hundredth time in this week alone, to be somewhere else. He wishes that he didn't felt compelled to chase the fallen Jedi. That he could just forget, and move on.

But just as Obi-Wan never gave up on him, Anakin will never give up on Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan leans over an open crate, humming appreciatively, before picking up what lays inside.

He rises it so the light catches on the golden ridges of the pyramid, and the black, polished faces gleam softly.

A holocron.

A _Sith_ holocron.

_No!_

He can't let Obi-Wan use it! Or even keep it. Those damned things are seeds of corruption, both by the dark knowledge they contain and by the power embedded in them by their creators. He's heard of Jedi joining the Sith after only carrying them for a while, read old tales of good men and women turned mad by their influence. And Obi-Wan is already so far gone...

He has known for a while now that his friend is seeking Sith relics - he's presuming that it was the reason of his presence on Mustafar, the place just reeks of the Dark Side - but holocrons are a whole other matter than antique lightsabers and morbid poetry on crackling parchments. 

"Years, you said?" Obi-Wan asks absent-mindedly. "A wonder no-one came earlier. I'll be taking it, thank you."

Then he just turns around and starts walking away.

"Hey! Were are ya going with that! You still haven't payed me!"

Obi-Wan stops and glance at the man above his shoulder then spreads his arms in a gesture meaning "woops, too bad".

"I'm afraid I don't have such a sum on me. You'll have to contend yourself with keeping your life."

Anakin almost rolls his eyes as the line, but he hasn't even the time for that as one of the other men present - henchmen, muscled, armed and apparently not very bright - pulls out a blaster from its holster, vaguely pointing it in Obi-Wan's direction. His reflexes kick in, and he jumps up with an extended hand. The weapon flies off to parts unknown, and all hell breaks loose.

Blasters of every size are drawn, shots are fired, and Obi-Wan springs into action. He ignites his red blade - _wrong, wrong, wrong_ , sings Anakin's brain - and deflect shots after shots until he's close enough to start hacking and slashing. But he's not the only target.

In better circumstances, with Anakin in best form or less distracted by the presence of his fallen friend, he would have avoided the shot easily.

But he's far from his best form and Force, is he distracted. He gets shot in the arm.

Not his left arm, which he probably should be thankful for, but he isn't sure it's actually better. His artificial limb seizes up, burn circuits causing a power surge that numbs the right half of his body.

He falls to the ground with a cry, his arm a dead weight under him.

A last cry echoes into the warehouse, living it eerily quiet. 

Anakin looks up at the sound of approaching steps. Obi-Wan is looking down on him, a strange expression on his face. There's a single strand of hair displaced on his forehead, only sign that he just slaughtered six men. 

"Anakin."

His hand goes to his belt and he swears. No lightsaber. He completely forgot, and rushed into this without even packing a weapon. 

Obi-Wan chuckles above him.

"What did I said Anakin?" He squats down, looking at his former apprentice with fondness. "Your weapon is your life. You should have made a stop on Illium."

"I didn't want to lose your trail," the Jedi admits, looking down in shame. Then he snaps his head up and stare at Obi-Wan deffiantly. He's not a damned Padawan anymore! And he won't accept critic as if it's still Obi-Wan's place to give it out.

Obi-Wan smiles knowingly. 

"You kept up quite admiringly, I have to admit. I didn't think you'd find me so soon."

If Anakin was someone else, it would go right over his head. But he knows the man in front of him better than anyone else in the Galaxy, and he can hear the accent of incertitude in his voice. And of incredulity.

_He doesn't know how I've found him._

_Can't he feel our bond?_

"But you should take a break, now. You don't look so good." 

His tone is teasing now, and some part of Anakin wants to believe it's just some tentative at friendly banter, something that's familiar, usual between them. But he knows it's not that, just as he knows that those eyes that sit heavily upon him aren't those of a man who he ought to call familiar or friendly.

Obi-Wan then raises a hand to his face, and Anakin can't help but flinch at the gesture. His reaction is ignored, though, and the bandage he hastily put on before leaving Dochidna is pulled off.

"You should have put bacta on that," Obi-Wan reprimands, thumbing delicately at the wound.

"There's a shortage, with the war. Didn't felt right to..."

He was about to say "to waste it on something like that", but Obi-Wan's not even listening, humming in the exact same way he did when appraising the holocron and Anakin's voice dies in his throat. A sick feeling rises inside of him. This is so wrong, he can't bear it. And he can't bear the way those fingers that cut down so many lives - and today's just another mark to the tally - are touching him so delicately.

It's with closed eyes and a lump in his throat that he says:

"Come back with me to Coruscant, please. We'll fix this. We'll bring you back to the light. I know you don't want _this_... You _can't_ want this..."

A bitter laugh escapes Obi-Wan's lips and he lets go of Anakin's face.

"Go back to the Order? Come on Anakin, even if I wanted it - and you know that I don't - what would they even let me set foot on planet? They're much more likely to kill me on sight than to help you," he waves his fingers at Anakin, "whatever you think you can accomplish here."

"Then to Naboo. We can..."

Obi-Wan's reaction is violent in its rapidity, and vicious in the way he grabs Anakin's chin, tilting his head back so their eyes meet, clear blue and Sith yellow.

"Now that's just plain ridiculous, Anakin," he says, and his voice makes it sound as if he's the one in pain. "You didn't understood _a thing_ if you think I even want to _think_ about that planet."

"Obi-Wa..."

"I'm leaving," Obi-Wan sighs, his grip on Anakin's chin softening into a caress before he lets go and stands up.

"No." Panic surges back into Anakin as he tries to stand up to but he leans on the wrong arm - usually his strongest, now just a dead weight - tries to stand on the wrong leg - still numb - and falls back down. "No, you can't just _go_!"

Obi-Wan is already at the door, having picked up the holocron on his way to it.

"We'll be together, dear one," he says with a sad smile. "Don't doubt it. Just... Not yet."

" _Why_?!"

Obi-Wan shakes his head and points a patronizing finger at him, once more playing up the role of Master.

"Do us both a favor, Anakin. Build yourself a new lightsaber."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I've seen stranger things."
> 
> Yeah, me too, Obi-Wan. Like, in three days. It was great.
> 
> Also I want y'all to know I died a little bit when I wrote in "Artoo". I really hate this way of writiing droid names but it's Anakin's pov so the serial didn't seemed right?


	4. Imaginary Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel slightly bad about some stuff happening in this chapter but, hey, at least i managed to write them :D 
> 
> Also, some manips cause I was bored this morning!

Anakin sits on the cold ground of a warehouse full of crate and dead bodies. He just sits there, eyes on a doorway long since empty.

He's back to square one.

He knows there's no use going after Obi-Wan now. He said he was leaving. He's going to be gone under an hour, off of Baskara and onto parts unknown.

A spark of an idea in Anakin's head, and he almost starts moving. He can rush to the docking area, try to intercept him...

But he deflates almost immediately. And then what? Throw himself at the ship? Stop Obi-Wan with one hand and his pretty face? He feels so discouraged. And empty, all his combativeness and hope gone through that door with Obi-Wan.

He didn't want to stay. Didn't want to go home with Anakin. Didn't even want to try to fix this.

He should have seen it coming. He'd been pretty clear about it the last time they'd seen each other. And yet he'd thought that if he could just talk to him...

He should have stalled, should have asked about Obi-Wan's plans, about his intentions. He should have...

 _One thing you should have done is not coming after him unarmed, you moron_ , he scolds himself so as to not fall once more in that pit of despair he's been flirting with for now too long. _Are you fucking suicidal, now?_

Sitting up a bit more straight, Anakin pulls his mechno-arm into his lap to examine it. Then curses himself again. Obi-Wan is right, he should have made himself a new weapon weeks ago. Or he should have at least packed a blaster. He's got one on his ship, and didn't even thought about bringing it to town.  
Force, sometimes his air brain is his worst enemy.

 _Don't sell yourself short, Anakin_ , the voice of his Master echoes in his head, ghost of a conversation long passed. _You're far more clever than you think._

Anakin snorts as he finally picks himself up from the ground, his right leg steady enough now that he'll just have to limp instead of jumping on one foot. Right. It was easy to Obi-Wan to say things like that. He'd always been the clever one in the pair they formed, his intellect cultivated since early childhood so he could be the perfect Jedi. That's why he was the Negotiator, and Anakin the Hero With No Fear, because he was too damn stupid to even have the good sense to stay away from situations he couldn't win.

He looks down on the dealer and his henchmen's bodies. He can't let them rot here. The burn marks and severed members are typical enough of a lightsaber fight that even here people will think of the Jedi when they'll get found. His Order doesn't need more bad publicity.

An hour later, he's one his way to his ship, bodies dumped into a nearby mine pit with the help of the Force. He's going to get this damn blaster and then he's going to get some sleep, because this whole encounter has exhausted him both physically and mentally. He'll get back to work in the morning - or whatever hour he happens to wake up at. If Obi-Wan has left clues behind, they aren't going to disappear while he sleeps. 

Or so he hopes.

He types in the hangar's door code, trying to repress a tired yawn at the same time. It ends up on a sputter as he doors open and he discovers what is awaiting him there.

Or, more accurately, what _isn't_ awaiting him there.

His ship is gone.

An incredulous laugh escapes Anakin's lips.

_Really?_

This is so not his day.

He steps into slowly into the hangar, pulling at his hair in frustration. Did that twi'lek somehow remembered he didn't actually payed the fee? He looks around looking for some sort of clue, and good thing he does, because his eyes fall onto a flimsi sheet, dropped as if carelessly on the duracrete floor. It's accompagned by key-chip tied to a smaller flimsi piece on which is scribled an adress. Anakin sets it aside to look at the letter.

The neat and tidy script is like a hit to the face and the words aren't any better.

 

  
_Dear Anakin,_

 _I took the liberty to borrow your ship, since I'm afraid mine isn't exactly in the best of state to accomplish the long journey I have in mind. Though I have to say that your ride isn't much better. I'm quite disappointed. I expected something a bit classier coming from you. In exchange, you can have the room I rented, if you haven't checked anywhere yet. It's paid for the week._  
_It was good seeing you, even though my heart ached at witnessing the state you put yourself in. Please try and take better care of your body? Just as your lightsaber, it is a weapon, and I'd hate you to get killed just because you're too tired to react._

_See you soon,_

_Obi-Wan._

 

 _If you care_ so much _about how I'm doing, then why did you have to leave again?_

That's one thing he doesn't get. If falling to the Dark Side is supposed to be about letting your emotions submerge you, then it must mean that Obi-Wan actually doesn't care that much. Or else he would be there, wouldn't he?

He almost throws the note away, but stills his hand at the last moment, then slips it in his pocket with the key-chip.

He swings by Kobel's ship on his way but discovers that it has been impounded sometimes during the day for unpaid fee. Whatever. He still has standards, and the thing is barely good enough for smuggling on-planet, it's a wonder Obi-Wan managed to make the hyperspace jump from Dochidna to Baskara with it.

He goes back to his hotel room, and stands there a moment, looking at his meager belongings. The Code encourage to let go of any material possessions, but he doesn't recall having owned so little ever in his life. He has no way of communication, no weapon, no tools. Just half a change of clothes, a bit of food and credits to last him two or three weeks, maybe.

_Behold General Skywalker, Jedi Knight, Hero of the Clone Wars, and soon to be totally broke at the fringe of civilization._

He sighs. _Guess I'd better take on Obi-Wan's offer._

He's disapointed but not surprised to not find much in Obi-Wan's room. Left-overs from a cold meal, a clean-wiped datapad - still better than nothing, he can try and get a HoloNet connection with it - and a cloak, hastily thrown over a chair.

He sits on the unmade bed, then starts to work on his taking off his arm. 

It's been years since he's taken it off completely, but right now it's more of a hindrance than anything, and it'll be easier to work on it later if it's off. Beside, he _really_ need to take a shower, and he doesn't want to damage the circuits more than they already are.

The water is luke warm at first, and down right chilly when he feels clean enough to exit the shower.

Force damned backwater world.

He really, really hopes that Obi-Wan is done with this part of the Galaxy. He wouldn't say no to going back to more civilized worlds.

He curls up in Obi-Wan's abandoned cloak as he launch a scan for HoloNet tranceiver, only to get the confirmation that Baskara is indeed so deep into the Rim that it doesn't even have one the fucking HoloNet.

"Great, now what?" he wonders aloud, letting himself fall back on the bed.

Now he's probably going to torture himself until he falls asleep. 

His remaining arm swings lightly on the side of the bed, and that's how he finds out the bottle of unidentified - but strong, really strong - alcohol that has been left on the floor.

_Well then._

 

* * *

 

  
Falling asleep drunk and surrounded by Obi-Wan's smell is both a curse and a benediction.

On one hand he doesn't have nightmares, but on the other, his dreams get really confusing.

He dreams that Obi-Wan is laying down next to him, but he can't touch him, try as he may. Then he realize that's because his right hand is missing, and the other one trapped under his body. And all this time, Obi-Wan his smirking at him from the other side of the bed, blue eyes shining in amusement.

But then something in the dream changes, and Obi-Wan's eyes turn yellow.

"Oh. Hello there," he says, scooting closer to Anakin. "Were you calling for me?"

 _I was_ , Anakin wants to say, but his lips are sealed. _Come closer._

He does, even though no word was said. He come close enough that their bodies are nearly touching. 

"I'm amazed," Obi-Wan says. "I didn't thought even you'd be strong enough to break down my shields."

You shielded yourself against me? Anakin wants to shout with indignation, but the thought is interrupted by a hand gliding through his hair, and he leans into it, sighing at the sensation of fingers raking against his scalp.

He realizes he has closed his eyes when he suddenly feels a hot breath against his neck and a voice in his ear.

"Now go back to sleep."

 

* * *

 

He wakes up sweating and with a pounding head, feeling disoriented and, apparently, horny.

"Oh, _Force_..."

He goes to the small fresher and drinks water directly from the tap. He isn't certain it's reasonable to do so here, but he's too dehydrated to care.

Also, he probably needs another shower, now.

He slips under the spray, sighing as the surprisingly hot water hits his back.

Then he peers down at his morning wood, and then thinks that maybe cold water would have been better.

But then again, why wouldn't he _not_ take care of it? It's not because the situation is utterly shitty that he can't indulge himself a bit, isn't it? It's probably even a good idea. Maybe that way he wouldn't feel as terrible for a little while.

As he takes himself in hand, his mind flashes back this night's dream, to being in bed with Obi-Wan, to his strong hand in his hair...

"Oh, fuck no!" he exclaims, his head hitting the shower's wall with a wet thump.

He's a married man for Force's sake! And Obi-Wan is already occupying his thoughts enough as it is without intruding on his alone time.

"Alright, Skywalker. Focus."

_Padmé._

His hands takes up speed as he think of the last time they've been together. They hadn't see each other in three weeks, and he'd surprised her with diner and wine and she was _so beautiful_ that evening, they didn't even made it to the bedroom. They had shed their clothes all across the living room, Anakin lifting Padmé in his arms to take her to one of the large sofas and...

And Obi-Wan had barged in, looking utterly, uncharacteristically panicked. His hair was in disarray and he was panting heavily and he'd frozen in the doorway as Anakin was coming with a strangled cry.

_Nope._

That was a bad idea. A terrible, terrible idea.

"Are you fucking happy, now?" he snarls, letting go of himself to hit the tile before him with a flattened hand.

Remember why he was so panicked.

He forces his mind eye to see past the hair and the heaving chest, to see the singed fabric and the bloodstains, to think about what happened later that day as he failed to stop Obi-Wan when his friend had come to him for help...

To his horror and dismay, his hard on hasn't even waned. He can actually feel himself getting closer to release, and isn't that fucked up?

"Alright so fucking get on with it," he says to himself with gritted teeth. He's learned countless meditation techniques. He can as well do this empty minded.

His teeth don't say gritted much longer, as his lips soon part to let out something he damn well hope isn't a jumbled name.

 

* * *

 

  
He spends the rest of the day in such a foul mood that he nearly get into three different fights. He ends up at the bar of a cantina, drinking the night - or day? Force, he really has to get off this fucking asteroid - away and falling asleep in a corner for what must be a very short amount of time until he's on his legs again, but he suddenly doesn't feel like going back to his room.

He spends the next day asking around about the owner of the warehouse, this time more politely - it must helps that he doesn't dear to raise his voice in fear that his head starts and never stop ringing - hoping to learn if anyone has seen him talk with Obi-Wan. He only finds more people with jumbled brains.

It takes Anakin two more days before he admits that he has lost Obi-Wan.

So he decides to go back to the Core. He can stop on Coruscant on his way to Illum, in the Unknown Regions. He just has to get to the Perlemian Trade Route, and from there it's smooth sailing to the Core.

But traveling is going to cost him. more than he currently possess. So he has two options: either use the Force to get by or throw his rank to requisition a ship.

Two things he has avoided until now. The former because using his power to get information is one thing, but to steal from people is another entirely, and he was raised better than that. The later because, well, he didn't want Obi-Wan to hear that a Jedi was after him and flee even farther away.

But now that won't be a problem anymore, won't it? Obi-Wan is gone, and he knows where Anakin is.

But this sector doesn't even have representatives in the Senate, so what respect a Jedi can get here he isn't sure.

Not a lot as it turns out, but it does provoke fear. He gets a tiny cabin on a freighter bound to Cadinth for a minimal price, then spends the next three days hearing whispers about the One Armed Wizard. _Another title to add to my collectible card,_ he thinks with somber amusement.

He walking down a street in a cadinthian's harbor when he sees them. Big holopanels, obviously freshly installed. On one of them is a Chagrian whose face is definitively familiar. On the other...

Anakin takes a double take.

His wife's face is plastered on a cadinthian holopanel. 

"What...?"

 

 

Padmé is running for the Chancellery.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @anesor: see the end of this chapter? well it wasn't supposed to be the end. there was more stuff there but then the rest grew and the chapter was long enough (and i love cliffhangers) so those thing i said i would explain here, well i think you can kinda guess by now but i'll definitively explain in the next :D


	5. Everybody Wants To Rule The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm pretty sure i had something to edit before posting but i can't remember what and i can't find anything amiss so, hum, maybe you're going to see something weird in there like an unfinished sentence who knows, certainly not me :D

Anakin stays there staring at the holopanels for what is probably a long amount of time, but he doesn't register it. Until an annoyed local tells him to move along.

The gears in his brain kick up as he starts walking slowly. Somehow he'd forgotten all about the politics of the Republic as he was chasing Obi-Wan across the Galaxy, but seeing those material proofs of it is like being catapulted right back into the fray.

Mas Amedda's candidature? Not a surprise. The Chagrian has stepped up after Palpatine's assassination, and has been rather unsubtle as he started campaigning for the Chancellery, pushing forward his service as Vice Chancellor both beneath Finis Vallorum and Sheev Palpatine, to appeal to those who desire stability. After all, he'd say in a recent speech, he'd been the "man behind the man" for a long time now, and he was feeling like it was only a natural development to for him to step out the shadow and lead the Galaxy toward a renewed prosperity and unity. How is he supposed to achieve that when Palpatine, a far more capable politician than he is, could only do so much to keep the Republic from auto-destruction.

But Padmé's? That he didn't saw coming. Did she knew she was going to run the last time they talked to each other? Had she purposely omitted it? Did she think he'd disapprove?

Well, he does. They don't need that. She puts already too much time in her senatorial duties, risks her life enough as it is. And now she just went and painted a target on her back for all the Galaxy to shoot at.

He wonders if she can win. On one hand, she's a far better diplomat than Amedda. She is cunning and has the fire to support her ideals. On the other, a large part of the Senate is resolutely conservative, striving on the intricacies and defaults of bureaucracy. They won't want the kind of change Padmé aspires to bring to the Republic.

 

* * *

 

The next step in his journey is Lianna, and from there he can get a ride directly to Coruscant. So he gets a seat on a civilian transport for the next morning. How he misses his starfighter.

The room he books that night is tiny and aseptic, but he only needs a bed for the night and a HoloNet connection. Two things this room has. 

He hesitates before entering his personal ID on the connection page. He's not exactly doing anything acting outside of the law. Just... Disobeying a direct command from the Master of the Order.

There's no-one after him. The Order doesn't have anyone to spare in a search for a wayward Jedi. Or else he wouldn't be alone in his quest to bring back Obi-Wan to the light. But that doesn't mean they won't send someone who's happening to be nearby if they can pinpoint his exact location.

Oh well, he thinks as he types in the serials. He's going back to Coruscant anyway.

_"Anakin!"_

Padmé answers rather quickly, and his heart swells at the sight of his wife, sat at her desk in her nightgown. He relaxes and smiles, feeling a little bit like he's home.

Until he remember why he was so anxious to talk to her.

"Padmé. Is everything alright?"

Her smile falters a bit.

_"Are you asking me because you genuinely want to know or do you want me to say something in particular?"_

He chuckles somberly. No point in trying to be cleverer than a politician, right?

"Both."

 _"I'm fine. Tired. This campaign has just started and it's already exhausting."_ She raise a perfect eyebrow at his face. _"That's what you wanted to talk about, right?"_

"Why are you doing it? You've never been interested by the function. You said you could do much more at a smaller scale, without having to respond to an entire Senate. You'll lose whatever independence you have if you win this."

 _"Isn't the desire for independence what sparked the war?"_ she retorts. _"The Galaxy must be united, and I'd feel hypocrite if I'd say that free agents can keep the greater good in mind after all this."_

"So you're willing to sacrifice your ideals for it? Or do you think you should impose your will?" he accuses her.

_"That's rich coming from the man who once told me he thought that dictatorship was the solution."_

They both stop talking, looking at each other through the holo-feed as if they're just only now realizing who they're talking to.

 _"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."_ she starts.

"No, it's me. I know you don't mean it that way. It's just that I thought..." He falters, not knowing how finish this sentence. What was he thinking exactly? That she would be satisfied with letting someone she doesn't trust leading them to further ruin? She's better than that. And yes, he believes that she would sacrifice some of her agency if she thinks it can help, but also that she will fight tooth and nails to keep as much of it as possible.

And she _will_ do it for the greater good.

 _"I'm getting lost in the rhetoric,"_ she says with a feeble laugh. _"I've spent to many hours in this damn Senate, I think."_

"It's alright, Padmé. I know you've accepted only because you don't see any better option. Who put you forward?" now that he's somewhat made peace with the idea, he can imagine her hearing her name called before the senators and representatives, rising gracefully to accept the charge with an humble bow, feigning surprise as she was called by her peers to run for the highest function in the universe.

He wishes he'd been there too see that. Amedda's face must have been priceless.

 _"Bail,"_ she replies with a half smile and Anakin would be lying if he'd say he isn't annoyed by that answer. He likes the man well enough, but sometimes he can't help but think that the admiration the man has for his wife is a bit too... much.

"I'm coming home," he says after a beat.

She looks up, an incredulous smile on her lips.

 _"Really? That's wonderful, Anakin!"_ He can hear her cheerfulness wane as she asks: _"Did you find Obi-Wan? Is he with you?"_

He feels a bit sick at the question, and at her tone. He knows the only reason she wants him to find Obi-Wan is that she wants him to come back. He's not stupid. He knows she thinks his friend is lost to the light. Some of the Senators who died in the Senate were her friends, after all, and he's pretty sure _she_ can only see the telltales of violence when she think about the way Obi-Wan found out...

_Not going there again._

"No," he replies, looking away in shame. Then he considers his answer and amends: "Well, yes. I found him. But he disappeared on me again. I don't know where he went. But I need to go to Illum. Coruscant's on my way."

 _"To Illum? But..."_ she stops, frowning. _"Isn't Illum where Jedi go for crystals? Did you lose your lightsaber again?!"_

Oh Force, she sounds angry. Which is totally unfair. She isn't his Master. 

"... Yes."

 _"You have to be more careful, Anakin!"_ she exclaims.

"Do you think I did it on purpose?!" he snaps. "Or do you too think I'm that inept? It got destroyed during a duel!"

Hurt washes over her face, and Anakin immediately regrets his harsh words.

 _"I'm just worried,"_ she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper. _"You're so far away, and you're running after a murderer. Anakin,"_ she cuts as he open his mouth to protest that Obi-Wan wouldn't hurt him - _and yet he did, didn't he?_ a voice that sounds a lot like Palpatine's says in his head, and suddenly he misses the old man and his council. _Why did you do it, Obi-Wan? "You told me yourself. Right now he's not thinking straight."_ She pauses, then: _"Was this duel against him?"_

He doesn't want to say it. He doesn't want to talk about how he lost his saber, or how exactly he got his scar. He doesn't want to admit that their meeting on Mustafar ended with him pinned to a table in a mining facility, blood running down his face as Obi-Wan carved into him as if his skin was bark on which people trace their initials. He doesn't even want to _think_ about any of this, can't even imagine retelling it out loud to his _wife_.

"No it was... Ventress. A few weeks ago."

Her eyebrows shot up.

_"Really? You didn't mention that."_

"I didn't think it was that important. Besides the lightsaber thing."

She nods, looking pensive.

_"Do you want me to send you a ship? Where are you?"_

She's already leaning to grab a comlink.

"I'll be on Lianna by tomorrow night."

They set up a meeting for as soon as she can gets someone there and after that there's only goodbyes to say. They both have to get some sleep, and they'll see each other soon enough.

They end the call and Anakin sigh loudly in as he lets himself fall on the bed beside. Well this could have went better. They aren't usually so ready to raise their voices against another. _Guess time and distance can get the better of any couple_ , he muses. Then again it could have went worse. She could have noticed his missing hand. Now that would have been an humiliating tale to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... "I rushed into an unknown situation with no weapon and got shot at" would be kinda humiliating when you're General Chosen One Skywalker, no?  
> Then again she's seen him at his awkward AotC phase so maybe not.
> 
> Once again there was supposed to be another scene at the end of this chapter but... I need sleep.


	6. Introspection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be at the end of the previous chapter (not that it was actually written. it was... planned :D).

The journey to Lianna is boring, Anakin having to sit idly all the way, squished into a chair in the middle of a row full of other travelers. So he takes a decision that would make his Master proud... If he still had a Master that is.

He starts meditating.

He's never been a big fan of it, never been particularly good at it either. But not liking it doesn't keep him from recognizing it's benefits. One that is non-negligible is keeping himself from overthinking on his down-time, but for that he only needs to keep to simple relaxation techniques. That's what he's done on the freighter between Baskara and Cadinth.

What he keeps avoiding though is conscience searching. He knows he's supposed to work on his feelings, to analyze situations that brought him pain or anger so that he can disentangle them from his thinking process and go on with a clear mind.

And right now those are pilling up, a rotting mess that makes him lose sleep he could actually finally get now that he doesn't have to run all day through unknown cities and questioning at best reticent people.

He brings forth the dream from the past week.

He has avoided thinking about it, because, well, the aftermath had been quite the disaster, even though he'd only remembered glimpses and sensations when he'd wake up. But he has a feeling that he's overlooking something there, and even if it turns out to be nothing, he knows he'd better not let that thing fester.

Dreams are important. Or they can be. Anakin shivers in his seat, the subtle movement bringing back some of the awareness of his environment and disturbing his concentration, as he think back on the last time he ignored a dream for so long. His mother would still be alive if only he hadn't.

It takes a moment to focus correctly after that thought, but when he does, the images are clear as spring water. He revisits the dream in its entirety, trying to do so in the most detached, clinical way, if only so he doesn't have to start over. It isn't easy, though as the whole sequence reeks of a heaviness that he isn't sure is due to his intoxication at the time or...

Or to the Dark Side.

His eyes snap open and he stares blindly through the nearby viewing bay.

He'd been in contact with Obi-Wan.

Not at first. That blue eyed, unattainable image he'd tried to reach was only a construct of his sleeping mind. He has been chasing after him for a long time, after all, and it wasn't even the first time - and probably wouldn't be the last -he'd dreamed of him. But then... Then his eyes had turned yellow and he'd seemed so _real,_ and he'd say that Anakin was _calling_ for him _._

And he had spoken of shields.  

Anakin doubts he was talking of your usual, even-a-youngling-knows-of-it mental shield. He didn't exactly read Obi-Wan's mind. He just... touched it. And it felt... Yes, it felt just like their bond, except much... Darker. Full of tension and heat when it had always been a source of serenity and reassurance before.

Did he somehow bypass some barrier put specifically between them? Is Obi-Wan voluntarily obscuring their bond? Is that even possible? Maybe the Sith know of a way... Something Obi-Wan would have discovered since his fall. Then maybe it was really him who made contact just before he reached Baskara. If he's able to reactive their bond at will...

Oh he doesn't like that idea one bit. Not only because it means that Obi-Wan has a control over him - over what subsides of their relationship - that he can't shake off, but also because the further his former Master deals with the Dark Side, the harder it will be to bring him back. And he _will_ bring him back. He swore to the man that he would. And the fact that he laughed in his face when he heard his vow doesn't change a thing.

But apparently Anakin is strong enough to pass through whatever Sith trick is at play here. And he did so twice, now, he realizes suddenly. The fist time he had opened just a crack, and it had allowed him to find Obi-Wan. And the second time they'd shared that dream.

He'd been asleep both time, though. Maybe it's because he has less control over his use of the Force that way... He'd been drunk during that dream, too. Another way to relinquish the control he has spent years learning under Obi-Wan's tutelage.

He reclines in his chair, digesting all this, wondering if he can maybe replicate the experience. He'd have to wait to be back on Coruscant, probably. He doesn't really want to experiment with this while on a ship, be it this one or whatever Padmé has sent for him. If he's right about all this, he will have to unleash a considerable amount of power - power that he know he has, for the Masters have never been shy about talking of the Chosen One prophecy in front of him, even though it was on more than uncertain and vague terms - and... get drunk.

Which he's pretty sure falls under the Improper Use of the Force label, but, well, it's not like he still has a Master to tell him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhm, he hasn't actually dealt with any of his feelings, hasn't he? :p But hey, still some progress!


	7. Black Holes and Revelations

It's another week gone by the time Anakin finally sets foot on Coruscant. Well, on a floating platform somewhere nearby the Temple district.

"Skyguy!"

Anakin receives an armful of togruta as he steps out of the ship. It's not easy hugging her one armed while not dropping his bag, and he almost falls off, earning himself snickers from the handful of clones amassed behind Ahsoka. He eyes them with false annoyance and they flash him wide grins. Force, he really missed all of them.

“Wow you look awful!” Ahsoka exclaims, taking a step back.

“Well thanks, Snips, nice to see you too!” He looks her up and down. “Will you ever stop growing?”

“Soon, I think,” she muses. “Those still have some way to go, though,” she adds with a smile, delicately grabbing the end of one of her head tails between two fingers.

Her eyes fall on his empty sleeve and the white markings on her brow go up in surprise.  

"And what happened with _that_ ," she asks, pointing at his lack of hand.

"Oh, _that_ ," he trails, not sure what he's ready to tell her exactly. But then he thinks about what he has planned for tonight and an idea come to him.  "You know what? I'll tell you all about it over a drink."

"You'd let me drink?" Ahsoka asks with widened eyes.

"No. I meant that I'll tell you that while I have a drink and you sits there listening. Who knows, you might even learn a thing or two."

_Like how to fail miserably._

"Alright. Where are we going?"

"Actually... I have some things to take care off. Why don't we meet back in an hour or so? At the Temple. I'll comm you."

She sends him a curious look but only shrugs, rather than asking him a thousand questions like he's expecting her too. He wonders if it's a sign of maturity or if she's just trying to not be too difficult so as to spare him.

She'd done that for the few weeks he'd been stuck on Coruscant after the Senate Massacre - _"Because if one half is guilty, the other_ must _know something..."_ \- being obedient and soft spoken and _not Ahsoka_  he'd thought he was going to go crazy with it. She'd stopped after he'd finally lost his cool, but now he can see some traces of it back, and he wonders what face he must present that she feels she has to act this way.

Probably not a good one.

 

* * *

 

 

Not wanting to draw more attention to him than necessary, Anakin only swings by his room after he has gotten what he needs - which proves a bit less easy than he thought and it actually two hours later than he can finally comm Ahsoka to meet him. While waiting for her to arrive, he rummages around the droid parts and schematics covered flimsi that fill an entire corner of the room until he finally finds his spare mechno arm. 

This artificial limb is of a subpar quality, compared to the one Anakin usually uses. It's bulky and inelegant, the sensibility somewhat off. He's only used it a couple of time - while working on his main prosthesis - and has hated every second of it. But it will do for now.

A knock on the door announce his Padawan's arrival as he finish attaching it. He flexes his fingers, once, twice, then just to be sure, punches a hole into a metal plate that's resting against his workstation.

It will do, for now.

Grabbing a bundle of clothes from his bed, he makes for the door, opens it with a wave of the hand and signal at the young togruta to follow him.

“Come on Snips.”

Anakin leads Ahsoka through the Temple’s hallways, noticing curious glances from other Jedi as they pass them. He wonders how long he has before he's called before the Council.

They stop before a door that looks like any other door in the area and Anakin opens it after a pause. He's afraid the place has been swiped clean, that there won't be anything left for him to connect with. Or even worse, that it has already been given to someone else.

He lets go a sharp exhale of relief as he finds the room untouched. 

“What are we doing there?”

She looks around the room curiously. He doesn’t think she’s ever been there. They’ve been going back and forth across the Galaxy during most of her years as their - at _his_ Padawan, and Obi-Wan has always been a private man, even with someone as close to him as Ahsoka was.

Anakin, though, has spent a lot of time here, as a Padawan. Far less as a Knight, since that period has also coincided with the war, and he'd rather spend his time on Coruscant at Padmé's rather than at the Temple. He regrets it now. He should have been more careful of Obi-Wan, even though he was the Master and Anakin the Padawan. They were also friends, and friendship goes both way. Maybe then he could avoided all this if he had been less of a selfish brat.

He'd been young and foolish and stupidly in love. He probably is still just as foolish. Insight can sometimes substitute for wisdom, but knowing how things turned so sour doesn't mean he's less of an idiot.

“Who’s room is this?” Ahsoka asks after a while without an answer, finally getting him out of his thoughts.

“It’s Obi-Wan’s,” he replies finally, his voice coming out embarrassingly strangled.

He finally steps into the space. There isn't much there, but what little there is is so _Obi-Wan_ that he feels like he's going to suffocate. There's a desk with a neatly stacked pile of flimsi and a lone datapad, a shelf stacked with holobooks that glow softly in the dimly lit room, a potted, miniature tree he doesn't now the name of on the windowsill, a neatly made bed on which, surprisingly, has been thrown training gear. Nothing ostentatious or superfluous, except maybe the plant, but then again the Masters would probably say that caring for nature is good for the stability of mind.

Anakin slides on the ground, back to the side of Obi-Wan's bed and pats the floor next to him. Ahsoka sits there, legs crossed and back straight, an expectant expression on her face.

He then unfolds the bundle he's been carrying, which reveal itself to be Obi-Wan's cloak, the one he left behind on Baskara. Inside is a bottle full of amber liquid. He unscrew the lid and takes a large swig, grimacing a bit at the burn of strong alcohol.

He doesn't look at Ahsoka as he does so, but he's certain her face must be interesting right now.

"So," he says before taking another swig. "Let's start at the beginning."

 

* * *

 

 

"... and turns out he really was heading to Mustafar. And I found him there. After three months. _Three months_ to catch up to him, Ahsoka! Can you believe that?"

"Yes I can," Ahsoka replies with an eyeroll. "He's always been cleverer than you."

"Mhm, that's true," Anakin admits, pulling the dark cloak tighter around his body and rubbing his nose into the fabric. 

"Force, Skyguy, what are you even drinking?" she inquires with an incredulous laugh.

He peers up at her, feeling a blush spread over his cheeks.

"Ambrostine?"

"Wow, _seriously?_ That's very... Unreasonable."

It's Anakin's turn to laugh.

"When was I ever reasonable? Sorry can't recall such a time."

She swats him on the arm.

"I mean it. Over-consumption is known to cause loss of inhibitions," she starts to recite, as if she has swallowed the Spirituous Handbook or something - an idea that makes Anakin chuckle until she hits him again. "...followed by sleepiness, both symptoms being of much greater proportions than the standard effects of alcohol."

"Are you done?"

"Are you trying to kill yourself? You've already downed half of it!"

He rolls his eyes at her, feeling like a mouthy teenager again and he picks up the bottle from where it's resting against his leg, taking a mouthful he doesn't even feel as it pours down his throat.

"There's a purpose to this, Ahsoka, don't worry."

"Yeah, killing yourself!"

"Stop being so dramatic and listen. So I find him. We fight. And I _almost_ won," he points a finger at Ahsoka as she makes a doubtful face. "Yes, I almost won, and if you don't believe me Artoo should have the recordings..." he trails of, remembering that he wiped the droid's memory of that day before sending it home to Padmé. "Actually never mind, he doesn't. So I almost won," he repeats once more," except that, you know, he taught me almost everything I know about - well about almost everything - so in the end he managed to fling my lightsaber into a Force damned _lava pool_ and I had to retreat inside a mining facility."

"Did he followed you inside? How did you came out of it alive?" Ahsoka asks, taken back into the story.

But he stares at her as if she's grown another head because... _really?_

"Coming out of it _alive_? Why would he try to _kill_ me?"

"But..." she stammers. "Weren't you two fighting?"

"Force, Ahsoka! He's fallen, not gone totally psycho!"

She's about to retort something, something he knows is going to hurt, so he gets up before she can swaying on his feet. When he's somewhat stable enough he starts pacing, and keeps drinking.

"What are we really doing here, Anakin?"

The use of his first name makes him giggle stupidly, even though some far away part of him knows that Ahsoka only calls him Anakin when she's worried.

"Well, well, my young Padawan," he says, his anguish forgotten, lost at the bottom of the Ambrostine bottle. "Taking some liberties with your Master, are you?" He leans forward then, taking a conspiring tone. "I'm going to spy on Obi-Wan."

She immediately looks alarmed and he knows she's going to protest as she opens her mouth so he shush her with his hand, almost missing her face and falling on his own.

"That's why you're here. You're going to watch over me, right?"

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin closes his eyes and as he lays on his former Master's bed, he feels like he's floating, taken away by lulling waters. He focus on the bond and in this place it's as easy as finding his own nose. Obi-Wan's Force signature is all around him, and even though what lays at the other end of the thread has been altered, deformed and darkened, it's still similar enough, still familiar enough that he can get a hold of it, and then the Force within him does the rest.

He's still conscious enough that he remembers to tether himself to the other being he's tied to, by another - less intense but right now feeling much more _safe_ \- training bound. Ahsoka will be his only anchor, and he hopes that it will be enough.

It's like flying through space now. Like he's standing at the very nose of a ship, starring through a vast window into the flow of hyperspace. He's going so fast that he has the fleeting though that no ship however quick will ever satisfy him after this experience.

He stops over a planet. Cloaked in darkness, breathing malice. It's a Sith World, he knows it instinctively, even though he cannot tell which one exactly. It doesn't matter right now. He has someone to find.

He dives into the atmosphere, fly between ruins haunted by thousands of shadows. One of them beckons to him and an instant later, he's inside. 

Or rather underground. There are tons and tons of poison soaked earth and stones painted with blood resting over this room. Its wall are lined with statues, most of them still bearing the stone copies of lightsabers. 

Obi-Wan is sitting on the floor, cross legged and chest naked, his skin painted with dark symbols Anakin can't read. His lips are moving as he pronounces words Anakin can't hear. They're blue with cold and he's shivering.

_"Anakin."_

Yellow eyes open up, and Anakin feels suddenly much heavier, almost as if he has a body again. The far away light of Ahsoka grows dimer and he's dragged down, down until he's face to face with Obi-Wan. Their noses would touch, if Anakin had one.

 _"Are you lost, dear one?"_ Obi-Wan purrs at him, and Anakin's soul sings. No he isn't lost. He's exactly were he wants to be. Where he wants to be always. Why would he even want to leave. He's complete, here. Now if only he was entirely there, not just his spirit, but his body too, that way he could... " _I told you_ ," Obi-Wan says, and his voice is like listening to the Force itself. " _Not yet. Not until I have fully embraced this new power._ _Then I'll open you the way. It'll be just like before, and you'll learn so quickly, just like you did the first time. You'll see. Just be patient."_

 _Be patient,_ Anakin thinks. _Maybe I can do that._

 

* * *

 

 

He wakes up with tear filled eyes.

Ahsoka is leaning over him, a hand on his shoulder and the other one holding a glass of water.

"Did you find him?" she whisper, worry clear in her voice and on her face.

"Yes," he says, grabbing the glass and almost choking as he tries to drink while still laying down.

"Where is he then?"

"I'm not... I'm not sure," his voice is still a slur, and it sounds weird after warped clarity that permeated his dream. "I'll have to check the Archives... In the morning."

Force he's still drunk. How long as this lasted? Probably not as much as it felt.

"What was he doing?"

He closes his eyes for a moment, images flashing on his eyelids, the echo of his name looping between the walls of his skull.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But, Master..."

"I have to go," he interrupts her, sitting up so quickly his head starts swimming and he almost falls back down.

"Hey, wait! Going where?"

"To see Padmé."

His Padawan his clearly taken aback.

"What, now? In that state?"

“We're married, Ahsoka,” he blurts out and if he still needed proof of the effect of that damn alcohol, here it is. "Doesn't matter how I show up."

“I know you are,” she says, patting him on the head. “Actually, I think _everyone_ knows.”

_What? Really? No, not everyone... At least not before that day..._

“Obi-Wan didn’t know…”

She’s silent for a moment.

“I think he didn’t want to see it. He wanted to believe that you two were just like him and Satine, too taken by your duties to do anything about your feelings.”

"Well we weren't. We both ignored his warnings. And in the end it didn't caused any harm." _Did it?_

He isn't so sure anymore.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Ahsoka is so wise.  
> Also I feel like Anakin's liver isn't going to survive this fic.


	8. Dazed and Confused

Anakin has no idea how he manages to fly to Padmé's apartment without killing himself. Force of habit maybe or just the Force being a pal, for once. Either way he thanks it has he stumbles into the turbolift and punches the button to the penthouse.

He wants to think he has hurried here because he hasn't seen her in a long time, because he misses her. And while there is truth in that, what he feels the most powerfully right now is guilt - He isn't sure over what exactly. _He_ didn't do anything wrong, did he? - And panic. Oh, and Obi-Wan's tainted Force presence, attached to him like an angry, unshakable leech, sucking any rational thought out of him.

 _Wasn't it what you wanted, open up your bond?_ his last shred of critical mind asks him.

Anakin presses his forefront to the fresh transparisteel of the turbolift, peering down at Coruscant underneath him, and sighing at the welcome coolness. His body is basking in a strange heat, even though he can feel himself trembling.

 _Well maybe it worked a bit too well_ , he thinks as his last attempt to close off his mind proves unsuccessful. 

 

* * *

 

 The light of the hallway shakes him up alive, as if the ascension was a very long dream instead of a couple minutes ride.

He lets himself in the apartment, being recognized by the security system and walks through the empty rooms, his footsteps not making a sound on the carpeted floor. There is light coming from the terrace, and this is where he finds Padmé, curled in one of the sofas, a light cover thrown over her. She's reading on her datapad, probably some report or speech for the Senate.

Anakin leans against the doorjamb. He looks upon his wife for a few moments, the view somehow soothing the burning fever that has taken hold of him. He doesn't disappear entirely, but now at least he has something else to focus on.

" _Hello there_."

Padmé jumps around in her seat, and pulls a baster on him.

His reaction is instinctive. Just as he did in that warehouse two weeks earlier, he sends the weapon flying of from Padmé's hands, tearing out a cry of pain from her. But he doesn't really hear it, as he falls into an unsteady battle stance, hand going to his belt. But there is no lightsaber there, and it makes him realize that he isn't in battle, and this is his wife, and he scared her and...

"Anakin!" Padmé exclaims, sitting back down and nursing her hand against her breast.

"Oh, Force, I'm so sorry Padmé!" He rushes to her, kneeling down at her feet and taking her hands into his. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry. I just thought you were..." She stops, then, and smiles at him. It's strained and looks kind of fake, but the mere idea of wondering why is chased from Anakin's mind as she ties her arms around his neck. "Never mind, come here."

Their kiss only last a few seconds though, before she puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away.

"Stars, Anakin! Did you rob a liquor store? I feel drunk just kissing you!"

"I was celebrating coming home," he lies with surprising easiness. Then again maybe he shouldn't be that surprised by it. He's spent most of their conversations lying, those past few months. Now why he is lying about this particular thing, he isn't so sure.

"With whom?" she asks with an incredulous chuckle.

He presses a hand over his heart, feigning taking the shot he avoided earlier - Maybe. She probably wouldn't have _actually_ shot him. He _definitively_ overreacted.

"I have friends you know!" he protests. But then he thinks again and... Does he? It hasn't really felt that way lately. Well, of course, there is Ahsoka, but she's his Padawan. And there is the Clones, but they are his men. And the other Jedi have always been more like coworkers than actual friends, what with the whole no-attachment rule keeping them from investing too much in each other. Add to that how unique Anakin has always been, even among an Order filled with extra-ordinary people and, really the only person he has been able to call a true friend, once his apprenticeship was done, is Obi-Wan.

And now that he's in the wind...

It's only as Padmé reaches for his cheek that he realizes he's crying. 

 _Fucking Ambrostine._ He's never drinking that again.

"Are _you_ alright, Ani? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lies again, hiding his face into her neck. "I guess I just really missed you." She puts her hands on his head, running slender fingers through his messy locks, and he can't help but think of another set of hands, rougher and scarred by battles. He swallows a sob and raises his arms to hold her, sliding his hands on her back. It's not ideal with his clunky, almost insensitive hand, but he manage to unclasp her dress before his brain can even entirely catch up on what he's doing, though when it does, he's instantly on board.

Maybe it'll chase Obi-Wan from his head.

 

* * *

 

Anakin wakes up with a killer hangover

He's alone in bed, Padmé probably already gone to work. He's also naked, which probably means they had a good time last night, even though he can't quite remember it. Which is a shame, really. Months without seeing Padmé, and he can't even tell if the first time they had sex after he came back was good. He hesitates between _yes,_ because they're usually pretty good and _meh,_ because, _Force_ , was he drunk!

But right now it's kind of the least of his worries. He feels like crap, really, and absolutely not in shape to do any kind of work. And stars, does he has work to do! He's got to fix his arm, find out where exactly Obi-Wan is and... Well, actually, he doesn't have that many things to do, he realizes. But right now it seems to him like just getting out of bed is an insurmountable task.

Not only does he have a headache, but he also feels feverish, waves of hot and cold going through him every few seconds and it doesn't feel _natural_. Not that feeling sick is supposed to feel very natural, he supposes, but there's a malignity in this particular sickness, and he doubts it has very much to do with being hangover or any cold he could have caught. He's been hangover before, and even though it was his first - and last! - time getting drunk on Ambrostine, it never felt like that. And he doesn't get colds.

So it must have to do with last evening's experiment. 

He prods around the bond, and immediately regrets it, as he almost passes out, submerged by the intensity of what it leads him to. It's a hungry, churning black hole, at the center of which is Obi-Wan.

He can feel himself being sucked into it. Whatever _it_ is, it reveals in the thought of getting him, for Anakin is a unique source of power, son of the Force itself, some believe. And _it_ hungers for more power.

Anakin must have moved somehow because he's suddenly brought back to himself as his head hits the floor. He has fallen off the bed, an event long time coming, he thinks to himself, trying to divert himself from the sheer horror of what has just happened.

It's pretty hard, though, given that the darkness is only just kept at bay, waiting for him to get close again.

Anakin rubs at his head then finally gets up. His clothes aren't here but he keeps some in Padmé's - very extensive - walk in closet. 

There's breakfast spread over the dining room's table and he wolfs it down, before rushing back to the Temple. He can't slow down, can't stop to think or else he fears he will be lulled back into that _thing_ that's happening so far away on that Sith World.

 

* * *

 

There is over a hundred and twenty known Sith Worlds out there. 

It wouldn't so much a problem, Anakin thinks as he goes from file to file, because the images of the one he's seeking is imprinted in his brain, if only they didn't all looked so similar. Something maily due to the dark atmosphere that surround them, as if being inhabited by Sith had make them cloked themself in darkness and mystery, just to set the mood. So he has to go deeper into the files, look at the few aerial views collected over millenia. Of dense jungles, arid deserts and misty swamps. What he needs is ruins, and those planets don't lack that either.

He's about to fall asleep at his terminal when his comm beeps. He's so startled that a little yelp escapes him, attiring him a glare from Jocasta Nu. He wave at her sheepishly and goes to some alcove out of the way where he can take the call.

"Skywalker. I see that the rumors are true. You're back."

It's Mace Windu. Anakin sigh, rubbing at his tired eyes.

"Yes I am, Master Windu. What can I do for you?"

"You can present yourself before the Council in an hour, Skywalker. And not a minute later."

His comm emits another beep, signaling the end of the call. 

"Nice talking to you, Mace," Anakin grumbles. What a pleasant welcome.

He goes sit back before the screen where a promising planet is on display. Well, only promising in the sense that it looks exactly like what he saw as he was experiencing disembodied flying. Because it sure looks gloomy.

 

* * *

 

He really doesn't look forward to this.

The Council members unanimously voted on terminating the menace among their ranks, refusing to even believe Obi-Wan could be saved. They hadn't want to hear anything Anakin had to say back then, had even thought for a while that his willingness to protect his former Master from the Order's justice was due to his own falling. They won't like anything he has to say about the last months, and so he is determined to tell them as little as possible.

He's outside of the Council's Chamber a few minutes before he's supposed to be there, not wanting to make the Masters even less amenable toward him than they probably already are and that's how he catches the tail end of the conversation going on inside. He has to make a conscious effort to hear what they say though, both because of the constant hum in his head and because of the door isolating him from the chamber.

"...disappeared how?" That's Master Windu.

"That's just the thing, no one knows." That second voice is muffled, probably coming through holo and Anakin almost faceplants into the door as he leans forward to hear it better. "There aren't any trace of a fight, and the comms have gone dead."

"They may have deserted..."

"An _entire battalion_?" Shaak Ti, sounding indignant on behalf of what now seems to be a Trooper unit.

"You don't think it has something to do with..."

"I think Skywalker has arrived," says Master Fisto, raising his voice as in trying to warn both Anakin and the other Masters.

He barely has the time to scramble away from the door before it opens, and he tries to look like someone who wasn't busy eavesdropping on a Council he usually has a right to sit on - well, he probably loose that right when he bailed, but still - but he's pretty sure all he manage to look like is stupid.

Master Windu waves him in with an air of resignation. Anakin walks in slowly, taking his time so he can look around at who's here and what the general mood is and maybe, try and prepare himself to what's to come.

There's Mace Windu, of course, Kit Fisto, Ki-Adi Mundi, Shaak Ti and the holo image of Depa Billaba. None of them look happy. But then he doesn't see why they would.

Master Yoda isn't there, and Anakin can't help but feel relieved by his absence for he's sure the Grand Master would see right through him should he hear him tell the censured tale of his quest.

Anakin stands in the center of the Chamber, his gaze automatically dropping to his feet. Speaking before the Council has always been a dreaded task, and even though he's taken assurance over the years, the feeling of uneasiness never went away. Right now it's almost buried under his headache and the thrum of dark power flowing through him, but his body nonetheless falls into a repentant pose as he feels the eyes of the Masters resting on him.

"You disobeyed my order, Skywalker," Master Windu says at last. His voice is cold and hard. He isn't used to his authority being defied, and likes it even less.

Anakin peers at him from beneath drooping eyelids. There is too much light in the Council Chamber, as it sits upon the Temple, the highest point in the area. The early afternoon sun is shining through the large windows and he feels like closing his eyes all the way.

He gives himself a shake and force the words through his mouth.

"Yes, I did, Master Windu."

The Master of the Order raise an eyebrow at his laconic answer and pursues:

"For all intent and purposes, you're a deserter."

"Well I came back, didn't I?"

His words are impertinent, some part of him knows, but there is no bite in his tone. Anakin's brain is feeling sluggish and there is this _sound_...

"And do you intend to stay?"

Anakin doesn't answer immediately, too busy _listening_. There's chanting in his head now, a faraway murmur that rises and fall with a rhythm that is almost familiar, almost...

"I..."

What is he even trying to say? 

"I have to go to Ilum," he tries to say, because that's what he was planning to say if they were to ask him, even though he isn't sure anymore that it's his priority, but he isn't certain it actually comes out. 

He doesn't really care, though. The voice is much more interesting. If only he could understand the words...

"SKYWALKER!"

Anakin startles, and his vision regains focus while the chanting vanish into a background. 

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"Are you alright, Anakin?" Master Mundi asks.

"I... yes Master. I think so."

It's an obvious lie, and everyone here knows it. They all look at him strangely, and then Anakin can feel the prods in the Force, inquiring minds touching his. He swats them like flies, and a shiver go through every Master present, like a ripple at the surface of a pond.

"Don't do that," he whispers in a pained voice. There's already enough going on in head like that, he doesn't need a bunch of Masters poking around. 

"You're reeking of the Dark Side!" Mace Windu exclaims, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. He actually looks afraid, and Anakin would be tempted to serve him some mock sermon about how fear leads to darkness would the situation be different. 

But now it just scares him in return. Even though they have their different, he can recognize that Master Windu is still among the wiser in the Order, and probably one of the most learned about the Dark Side.

If he is afraid, Anakin has all the reasons in the world to panic.

"It's not me! It's Obi-Wan!" the words escape him before he has the opportunity to think them over, and he regrets them instantly. They already think Obi-Wan is a lost cause, but now they'll think he's _corrupting him_ in turn.

"What do you mean, Skywalker?" Windu asks impatiently and then urging him when Anakin hesitates: "Well, speak up!"

Well now that it's out there, maybe they can actually help him. And Force, does he need help.

"I... I did _something_... And it... Activated our bond."

" _Your bond_? You mean your training bond?"

"Yes."

Master Windu swears under his breath while the others exchange glances.

"I knew it was a mistake letting you keep it. It should have been severed when you became a Knight. Why are we keeping making exceptions for you I can't..."

Furry raises inside Anakin at those words, as if the bond itself disapproves of those words, as if it's a living thing, with a will on its own. Anakin's jaw tighten, his hands curl into fists, the mechanical one squeaking as the joints are pushed to their limits.

"That's not the point! I _saw_ him!" he shouts, and Windu looks like he's been slapped. But he schools his features a quickly as he lost his composure and asks:

"Well then, do you know where he is? What he's doing?"

He doesn't want to tell them what he thinks is Obi-Wan's location. He has to find him first, and the whole might of the Order descending on Korriban is certainly bound to make Obi-Wan flee, and then Anakin will have to locate him again and he's really not looking forward to renewing the experience.

"I think... I think he's doing some sort of ritual."

As if his words were a cue, Anakin's mind lights up, making him blind to his surroundings, and suddenly he isn't connected to just Obi-Wan, but to a million of other minds, spread across the Galaxy.

 

* * *

 

Anakin wakes up in the Healing Halls, his mind clear and untroubled. His and Obi-Wan's bond is back to normal, or as normal as mental connection between a Jedi and a Sith - and he can't deny it anymore. Obi-Wan isn't just fallen, he's become the enemy, a Sith Lord in everything but the name - can be. It feels sturdier, thicker than before in a way and still clouded in the same darkness than he felt so strongly the previous day but it's not invasive anymore, Obi-Wan's consciousness only coiling around his when he tries and touch it, which he doesn't tries more than once. What he gets from it is feeling of tired satisfaction and possessive affection that makes him shiver under his cover.

Whatever that Sith ritual was, it was successful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ Padmé: I'm so sorry I'm using you like that girl.  
> Me @ Anakin: Here, have some aspirin, honey.  
> Me @ Obi-Wan: STOP POLLUTING HIS MIND HE'S ALREADY CONFUSED ENOUGH AS IT IS!


	9. Retrograde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's go back a bit, shall we? :D

Walking out of that warehouse feels like getting his heart teared out of his chest.

He'd known Anakin was on his tail, had left him a trail to pick up here and there. He also knew he was on his way, having visited him briefly the day before and sensed him moving at great speed as he traveled through hyperspace. But his presence in the warehouse had been a surprise, though he can guess that it has something to do with their bond. He had felt _something_ while he was on his way to seal the holocron deal, and then somewhat forgotten about it as he was speaking with its soon to be former owner.

He had been tempted to re-open the channel linking them, to let Anakin feel the flare of profound satisfaction he'd felt when the young man had betrayed his position in order to protect Obi-Wan - who hadn't really needed said protection, but still.

Said temptation had been qickly forgotten though, as destructive rage had overtook him when Anakin had been hit by that blaster shot, so intense that it would have buried him just a few months ago. But now it's just more fuel to his powers, and he could feel the holocron almost _vibrating_ , echoing it from where he'd left it as he was obliterating his opponents.

It had been quick and mostly painless, which he regrets, almost. He would have taken his sweet time with them if he hadn't been submerged by the need to check on Anakin.

He was a mess.

A beautiful mess.

Spread on the hard ground, his weight resting on one elbow, long legs spread in an enticing v, a tangle of dark golden locks falling over bright blue eyes that had looked up at him with a mix of fear and hope that had made Obi-Wan ache - for the simpler relationship they had before all this, for the possibilities of the future - and dark, almost bruise-like shadows beneath them... And the bandage masking his brand new scar.

He'd wanted to grab him, and never let go.

But he hadn't.

Proving that there was still some form of restraint in him he had walked away after a quick talk and a few touches. And it had hurt, but it would be beneficial for both of them, in the long run.

Just as Anakin had made a promise to him, he had made Anakin one of his own, even though he has yet to speak it aloud.

As he was leaving bodies behind in the Senate - they were in his way, they were corrupt, they didn't really mattered, in the end -, as he jumped from one repulsorpod to another, as he fought against Palpatine - no, against _Sidious_ \- he'd swore to himself that never gain he would give an opportunity to Anakin to doubt him, that never again he would have to turn to other people for guidance - never he would open his heart to the likes of Sidious, among all - that one day he would think back on what he'd witnessed less than an hour earlier and _laugh_ about it instead of wanting to gouge his eyes out and tear out his brain from his skull.

But for that to become reality, Obi-Wan had to become _enough_.

So instead he just presses the holocron against his chest as he walks away. There is a beat of darkness exuding from it, like a second heart against his own.

He'd quickly found out that the Force didn’t let itself be used in the same way once you fall from the Light. That his only option was to follow through with his fall, dive head first into the Dark Side. _It's just a different set of tools_ , he'd repeated to himself at first, again and again, up to that moment when he had realized he didn't care much about it anymore. The Force had gotten rid of most of his doubts, like it had so many times before. _As powerful on this side than on the other._

 

* * *

Obi-Wan takes off from the asteroid and gets into hyperspace. It's time to go back to more civilized systems.

He gets up from the pilot chair with a yawn, stretching - his hands hit the low ceiling as he does and he smiles as he imagines Anakin in there, his Padawan - _former Padawan_ , he reminds himself. Force, it's been three years and still the habit hasn't left him. It's probably not helped by the fact that they still have that training bond, and that Anakin keeps calling him Master, even though Obi-Wan has repeated him that it was okay to call him by his name. Not that it really bother him that much, though. He rather likes it... - His _former_ Padawan must have hated the enclosed space, what with his tall frame and his propensity to action. Being stuck in there for weeks was a whole other matter than a few hours spent at high speed in a Starfighter.

 _I bet he threw those things when angry_ , he thinks to himself with a little chuckle as he notices a broken comm on the ground, along with several other mechanical pieces he can't identify.

He'd spent years trying to teach Anakin to get a hold of his temper, torn between feeling hypocritical - he'd been an angry child, and an even angrier teen, too - commiserating - he could still taste that frustration - and annoyed.

It had totally changed after Anakin had became a Knight.

Free of the responsibility of educating him, put on a somewhat equal footing with him and confronted to that new, adult, and, above all, terribly, unbearably _attractive_  version of him, Obi-Wan's thoughts had taken an entirely different turn at the sight of an angry Anakin.

He would watch him get angry with hard to repress fascination, and then he would stay awake at night, seeing only blue eyes that burned with a cold fire, the taut muscles of his neck as he'd fought against the need to leap forward at his enemy - held back by the Code, but always, always so close to breaking -, the way he had to stalk around like some great predator circling its prey at the littlest sign of conflict...

Obi-Wan sheds his clothes as he makes the short walk to the fresher in the back of the ship. He hasn't exactly broken a sweat in that quick, pretty much one sided fight back on Baskara, but there's something about a good shower taken after a fight... Well good might be overestimating this spaceship and its seriously out-dated commodities, Obi-Wan realizes as he get inside the narrow cubicle. Where the hell did Anakin found this pile of junk? And what happened to that ship he had back on Mustafar? That one looked pretty nice...

By association of thoughts his mind goes directly back to Anakin's anger issues. He can't even remember what he'd say on the bank of that river of fire that had made the young Knight so mad, but the sight had made his blood boil in a way that has nothing to do with the heat of Mustafar

Anakin had retreated into the facility, closing door after door behind him, and Obi-Wan had slashed them all open, the thick metal resisting only a few moment to either the Force or the heat of his lightsaber, his anger and pain only increasing as the Jedi ran away from him, as if he was the enemy, as if he would hurt him, him that he cherished above anyone else.

He'd finally cornered him in the meeting room where the corpse of a dozen or so Separatists where still laying. Finding them here had been a surprise, but puting an end to their miserable lives a certain bonus to Obi-Wan's visit.

He'd grabbed at Anakin using the Force, propelling him onto the wide table that occupied the middle of the room, then joined him there, immobilizing him with a knee on his chest and the pressure of the Force all around.

_"Listen to me!"_

Anakin had looked back at him with those blue eyes of his, the fury of their fight still present in his shaking muscles. He’d tried to shake Obi-Wan off one last time, both with his body and the Force, chest heaving as he failed again.

_"It's over! Stop fighting!"_

To his surprise and intense satisfaction, Anakin had obeyed, going limp under him. 

He’d looked down on Anakin, pinned to the table under him, laid there for Obi-Wan to do anything he damn well wanted. He could have killed him then. He could have kissed him. But even though they’d just fought, he knew he could never do the former.

As for the later…

He'd reached for Anakin's face, stroking slowly at his right cheek, from the arch of his eyebrow to the line of his jaw. He only had to lean down to claim his lips and he'd never felt the need to do so as strongly as when, from Anakin's throat, had came out a strangled noise and his eyes had widened in a rare show of panic.

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes then, stilled his hand, leaned back so as too put as much distance between them as he could without letting Anakin go.

He wanted Anakin to want it. He wanted him to _beg_ for it. 

And he wanted him to work hard for it. Wanted him to try and repair what he'd broken inside Obi-Wan that day, three months earlier. 

He also wanted to do _something_ , though. Something that would make this day unforgettable. That would make _Obi-Wan_ himself unforgettable.

He'd let his gaze wander in search of inspiration and that turned to be exactly what he needed. There, at the hip of one of the slayed Separatists, was what looked like some sort of ritual dagger.

_Perfect._

Obi-Wan had flashed a smile to the trapped Jedi underneath him and called the dagger to his hand.

_"What...?"_

He'd clasped his lightsaber to his belt so his other hand was free, and with it, he'd silenced Anakin - _and with this gesture he'd made the clamor of his still dual parts come to the forefront of his mind, and the memory of it makes his movement falter in that shower in that ship in the warped flow of space_. _His heart and mind are an underground battlefield, where reason and emotions are at war. Each decision taken is a duel between those two parts of him, the one that says that it isn't because he has fallen that he has to behave like a Sith, the other screaming that he's free to do whatever the fuck he wants, and if that includes hurting people he loves, so be it. And the Sith wins again, and his fingers press over Anakin's mouth, muffling his cries of pain and fear and in the shower in the ship in the warped flow of space his hand takes up speed again around his heated flesh as he remembers_ how good _it had felt to mark him, to make him suffer like he'd suffer, to make him_ his _physically and emotionally and how he longs to do so again -_ and opened up his skin. 

_"Something to remember me by."_

He'd bend down, nose against Anakin sweaty temple, and snarled in his ear.

_"She'll see me every time she looks at you now."_

 

* * *

 

He's left all of his possessions - items bought or stolen since he's left Coruscant, as he didn't really had the occasion to swing back by his room at the Temple to pack - either on the smuggler's ship or in the room he's rented on Baskara. So he's rather pleased to find out that Anakin has left clothes on board.

He finds light tunics and pants, well worn and comfortable if a bit too large on him, and after quickly checking on his progression, slides into the lone bunk that takes up what little space there is left in the back.

The sheets are long since cold but he can easily imagine Anakin turning and tossing between them. His Force signature is all over the ship but there it has the taste of agitated nights and restless dreams and Obi-Wan likes to think they're about him.

It feels like he has just only fallen asleep when he's stirred awake by some kind of whisper.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes, and the sight that welcomes him...

_I think I'm dreaming._

Because surely, Anakin couldn't have gotten on board of a ship travelling into hyperspace. And there is no way he would have gotten in bed with Obi-Wan like that. 

But there is something...

Something that tells him that _this is Anakin_.

"Oh. Hello there," he says, scooting closer to Anakin. "Were you calling for me?"

 


	10. Empty Gold

_Padmé Amidala is running for Chancellor._

He's in a seedy Mid-Rim cantina when the news drop, the news-feed on the old holo-screen screwed to the wall behind the bar showing her and her assistants in their repulsorpods. She's dressed simply - though still elegantly - for once, and he's sure it's on purpose. She didn't want to look like she expected this day to be anything exceptional for herself. 

It makes him disproportionately mad, seeing her like that, and contrarily to what his past self would have done, he doesn't even pause and try to make this anger go away. He just let it submerge him. It comes as a wave of acidic rage that makes his grip on his glass tighten, and he has to let go of it before he brakes it and hurt his main hand in the stupidest way. 

 _Who does she think she is?_ he fumes as he signal the barman for a refill.

 _She isn't that exceptional_. _She's just a politician with delusion of grander, instigated in her by a culture that gives power to young girls in virtue of their purity._

"She doesn't know what it's really like, being down there on the battlefield, as our men get shot down by _machines,"_ he monologues to a drunk patron a bit later. And though he hasn't forgotten how she did ended up "down there" a unreasonable amount of time for someone with no formal training, "who's she kidding? She was surrounded by people far more capable than her! How many did take the fall so she could continue to live?!"

"She wants to _unite_ the Galaxy? With _diplomacy?"_ he asks to no-one in particular, dumbfounded, as Amidala's speech replays.

As if what has been purposefully broken can be repaired with only words.

He's seen the truth, has learned it at a great price. The Sith Lord's master plan was to bring back unity by force, with a grand twist that would have dazzled the Galaxy and persuaded it that he was the one who should lead all of them, the one who was deserving of supreme power, and so it will only be done that way.

 _Villains and their monologues_ , he thinks with a sneer. His pomposity had been Palpatine downfall, in the end. Too busy gloating to even notice that Obi-Wan was slipping away to get reinforcements, too enamored with his own ingenuity to resist explaining it to someone he was sure to kill before the end of the day.

He hadn't been shy in giving away crucial details, threads that Obi-Wan can pick up if he is so inclined.

And right now, Force does he feel inclined. It's a slippery slope covered in the black slime that is his hate for Padmé Amidala and his desire of revenge upon the Jedi that so easily turned on him, and above all, his need to create a world in which Anakin as no need, no want for anyone that isn't him.

And so he decides to get into the race himself. After all, why not. He's a General, at the head - well, formerly at the head - of the greatest fleet in the Galaxy. He's the Negotiator, the one who has outplayed politicians at their own games so many times. And the Force itself is with him. Surely he's qualified enough for the job.

Except he won't be judged by his speeches or how many representatives he can buy. No, he's going to win the Galaxy by conquest.

And for that he needs an army.

 

* * *

 

That night he dreams of a weapon the size of a moon. It has a heart of kyber, and the ray that beams out of it is just like the blade of a lightsaber. It is set upon a planet, and Obi-Wan really fucking hopes that it is Naboo. For it explodes without a sound, forever gone from the night sky.

He sees this from a distance but then the next moment he's on board of he man made moon, and at his side is Anakin. He's clad in black leather, wears chest plate and shoulder guards just like he used to at the beginning of the war, but here he's older, thirty maybe, and his poise is that of a bored king as he looks down on the shreds of planet with an impassible face that he soon turns to Obi-Wan.

"Are you happy now, _Master_?"

His voice is deadened, and his the blue fire of his gaze has been turned a dim gold.

He's still gorgeous, though, still makes Obi-Wan's blood boil and his heart beat faster and cock harden. He raises his gloved hand and grabs at the younger man's nape, curled hair sliding between his fingers - but he can't feel them, just the tension of it in his grip as he leans forward to answer.

"Not yet, but _soon_."

He wakes up sweating and panting, and supremely annoyed that such a tame dream can put him in such a state. As if it was a Force vision or...

 _Oh._ He blinks in the darkness. _Maybe it_ was _a vision._

He lies in his bunk, staring at the ceiling over him, and tries to decipher the dream. Was it the future that he saw? Certain or only possible?

This weapon... He'd never seen the likes of it. And he seemed he was _commanding it_. Or was at least in good enough terms with the people in charge that him and Anakin were able to stand there on what seemed to be a command deck and watch at an entire planet was destroy in the blink of a eye. _Does this weapon exists already?_ he wonders. _Is it hidden somewhere? Was it part of Sidious's plans? Or am I the one who makes it happen?_

What planet was it that they'd watched being destroyed? The part of him that was conscious of this being a dream had wished it was Naboo, but the other part, the one that was this potential Obi-Wan, it didn't care about it. That future-maybe-him had just been satisfied that the weapon was working, and half of his attention had been on his companion anyway.

And here was another intriguing element.

Anakin - an older, sterner Anakin - had called him "Master".

Now if things were normal - normal for them, that is: war and Force weirdness - it wouldn't have made him tick. Anakin had never let go of the habit and Obi-Wan had enjoyed their maintained relationship too much to really insist that he stop. How Anakin still somehow deferred to him, still considered him as a worthy teacher and as someone he ought to show respect was flattering and comforting, when all around them was chaos and incertitude. 

But Anakin hadn't called him that since he'd fallen. Not that they had talked _that much_ , but still.

And this had sounded... different.

More like something destined to get some reaction out of Obi-Wan rather than a true mark of respect. And it gives him shivers just to think about what that might mean. Oh, how he is jealous of this future-maybe-him, who has Anakin by his side... Who has _turned_ him. Who can put his hands on him and get no surprise nor rejection...

But that Obi-Wan wasn't happy.

Why? He had Anakin at his side, what looked like years later. That should suffice to have him satisfied, no? Unless Anakin somehow still wasn't _his -_ and this thought sounds absurd, with all the signs he'd been given, but he can't ignore this possibility entirely.

 _I can be patient_ , he tells himself, _as long as he's at my side. I can wait._

But _he_ hadn't seemed happy either. Even under the teasing tone in which he'd given Obi-Wan his rank, there was that hint of disinterest, as if he was playing a game he didn't really cared about.

The part of Obi-Wan that recalls what it's like to be a Jedi - that even _longs_  to be one again - awakens at this idea, telling him that his plan won't work, that Anakin will not stand for it, will see him as just another madman thirsting for power. That he'll think Obi-Wan just wants him for his potency in the Force, because he's the Chosen One. And if he ever go for it, it won't be because he _wants_ to, but because he sees no other choice.

"I'm not Sidious," he growls at the darkness. "I'm doing this _for_ him."

And that's why he must do this. Why he must be everything Amidala can't be, _won't_ be. Because she's weak, because she believes she can save the Galaxy with only her good intentions. That the enemy will drop its weapon at the sight of her pretty, smiling face. Because Anakin can see her weakness, and for some reason Obi-Wan can't fathom, it seems to make him want to protect her.

 

And that's not what he needs, Obi-Wan knows, because he knows him like no-one else does. Anakin needs someone as strong as he is. Someone he can fall back on when the pressure of his fate gets to heavy, someone who can understand what it means to have this power they were born with. Someone who will see the darkness within him and not try to clench it but nurture it, because it is just as part of who Anakin is as the Light. 

_If the Jedi had knew._

_If_ I _had knew._

The only way Anakin could have been kept entirely in the Light would have been to keep him at the Temple, at peace and sheltered from the violence of the outside world. It wouldn't have been easy, for he was already old enough to know what he would have missed, but they could have molded him into a scholar or a healer. Then maybe he could have been the calm pond in which the Council had desired so much to see their reflection in.

But they had allowed Obi-Wan to train him. And make him a warrior. Because for as much as they like to talk about peace, the Jedi _are_ warriors. _Anakin_ is a warrior, and one of the best there is. He's a killer. As been raised - by Obi-Wan - to be one. And he'd been exposed to darkness and the fire of war and the Code, already so ill fitting to the child that was "too old to be trained", had became impossible to follow. 

_I fell to pave you the way._

It's inevitable, in his mind, that Anakin is going to fall, with or without him. But he'll be there. To teach him what he needs to know again, and keep him away from the kind of weakness that will, one day, get him killed.

That's why he has to embrace the Dark Side, and to be strong, and to be ruthless, so high above that no one would dare reach for them.

His minds falls back on Padmé and contempt arise once more in him. Yes he'll be ruthless. Whereas she's soft, breakable. And she can't possibly understand what it's like to be the vector of cosmic balance, she can't possibly offer him as much as...

_Oh but he seemed to like that softness just fine, didn't he?_

That thought burns and stings, but Obi-Wan forces himself to process it, to let it sear him again and again. And then he curses himself again and again for his stupidity, for his blindness, for his willingness to believe that Anakin would just _do as he was told_.

Palpatine had alluded to it, saying that Anakin was " _so close to falling, in some ways already fallen_ ", and telling to Obi-Wan, with a false air of sympathy how sorry he was for him that he couldn't be quicker, something that Obi-Wan had thought was about him finding out who the Sith Lord truly was, for Sidious had then went on about his evil deeds.

But the truth Was Anakin had fallen for someone, and this someone wasn't Obi-Wan. It was someone who'd came and stole him when Obi-Wan still thought his affection for the young man - too young, still so naive, so influenceable, and so, so utterly bounds. He wouldn't have even if he had known... Or would he? That hadn't stopped _her_ \- to be that of a brotherly sort.

He had felt so foolish as he went back to his borrowed - or rather stolen, since he'd never returned it - speeder, the butt of a joke he was the only one not in.

And to add insult to injury, he’d had to witness Anakin coming, balls deep into… What was she to him, exactly? His lover? His girlfriend? His _wife_?

He’d had to see that, Anakins face distorted by pleasure and surprise, the moan he’d let out as if unwillingly, the broken voice with which he’d called after Obi-Wan.

That sound comes back both in his dreams and his nightmares, but that night when he finally falls asleep again, it isn't his name Anakin cries out but a litany of "Master, Master, _Master_...."

 

* * *

 

Even though all his access codes have been revoked months ago, it takes no time at all to get into the database. Not because Obi-Wan is particularly good at slicing - though he did learned the basis - but because of Anakin.

 _Thank you, dear one_ , he thinks as he types in his former Padawan's IDs. 

He finds the 212th in the Mid Rim, stationed on a small planet of so little importance that he fail to find any reason for one of the best units of the Grand Army of the Republic to be sent there.

It's a waste of his battalion, clearly, and there is no doubt in his mind that this is was meant as an insult by the Council.

There's nothing to do about his yellow eyes. He knows that it's possible to hide them in some way - Sidious, after all, went for years without anyone even having soupcons of his true nature - but he hasn't found it yet. So all he can do is hope that they'll be swayed by the truth.

Well, some version of the truth. And a little bit of help from the Force.

He really doesn't want to harm them, though he probably won't hesitate if he has to.

 

* * *

 

It takes even less work than he thought it would to persuade the Clones to accompany him. For all they look like grown men, there is still something incredibly childlike in them, that leads them to give their trust easily to those that show them respect and attention. And Obi-Wan has been their leader for now three years, which is a fairly good chunk of their lives. They also resent having been sent away from the action, and this unauthorized mission appeals a lot more to them than Obi-Wan would like, but he's not about to complain.

Cody keeps his blaster trained on him the whole time, expression at first clearly hostile, then merely dubious. But he does lower his weapon in the end.

What's harder is having them draw blood for him, once they've touched ground on Korriban. He need a substantial quantity, enough to paint on the millennia old stone and on his naked skin. He has to use the Force again for that, thread whispers into their thoughts, telling them that down there their his a lab where he'll synthesize some cure for a made up disease. They're told to stay above ground, keep the Temple safe from scavengers and Separatists troops. He left them there, standing around and blasters ready, waiting for a threat that'll never come.

He's only getting started when Anakin appears to him. It starts as a tug upon their bond, that turns into an intoxicating - or is it intoxicated? - and vicious grip, and he has the fleeting though that he would get sucked through if he wasn't anchored to his body by the Sith symbols on his arms and torso. It's quickly chased away as he opens his eyes to see Anakin showing up himself, a fleeting specter on a non-existent breeze.

Anakin fly down to him, nearly close enough to touch. He looks a bit lost, and though Obi-Wan knows that such a phenomenon can only happen on purpose, and using a tremendous amount of poser with that - though power has never been Anakin's problem, hasn't it? - and that means that if he's here, that's because he wants to be there, banter has been their main way of communication for far to long for him to pass up on such an occasion.

Except it comes out... Not as banter-like as he'd though it would.

"Are you lost, dear one?" Obi-Wan literally purrs at him, and Anakin's soul sings through their bond. No he isn't lost. He's exactly were he wants to be. Where he wants to be always. Why would he even want to leave. He's complete, here. Now if only he was entirely there, not just his spirit, but his body too, that way he could...

Obi-Wan feels himself tremble, and this time it's not due to the cold of the Sith Temple.

"I told you," he says, even though he doesn't want to. "Not yet. Not until I have fully embraced this new power. Then I'll open you the way. It'll be just like before, and you'll learn so quickly, just like you did the first time. You'll see. Just be patient."

Anakin nods at him, his face taking on a serious expression around his too bright eyes, and disappears. He's not entirely gone though. Obi-Wan can still feel him, hovering at the edge of his consciousness, sometimes dipping a metaphorical toe into the waters of their shared mind, once even nearly drowning into the vortex of dark energy that Obi-Wan has summoned. 

It takes hours. Maybe even a full day. He isn't sure, doesn't really care. He's too focused on the task at hand to bother with something as inconsequential as _time_. He battles with the remains of hundreds of Sith Lords, infuse in the power he conjures from them, and burn it in the words he traced on his skin and on the stone.

He knows exactly when it's done. His consciousness expands and there's a surge of power that has the distinct taste of _Anakin_ , and then he is in a million of heads at a time. 

All across the Galaxy, Clones stop dead in their tracks, seized by the bond of the blood they all share, and for a brief instant, their eyes flash yellow.

Some get shot down by Separatist troops as it happens, but most of them are in the clear, and the number that survives the take over is will do perfectly.

Stardestroyers and troop carriers turn around, and disappear into hyperspace.

The Grand Army of the Republic is gone.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Anakin is about to jump down from his bed and flee the Halls of Healing. To do what then, he isn't sure. His first thought is Korriban, but he still doesn't have a lightsaber. Plus the reason why he stopped on Coruscant in the first place was because it was on his way to Ilum.

The door to his room opens before he can take a decision, though, and Anakin brace himself for the overly benevolent onslaught that usually comes with Healers entering a room. To his immense relief, the only person that comes in is Ahsoka. His Padawan looks relieved when she passes the door and sees him sitting up, and they exchange tiny, sad smiles.

She doesn't say a word, though, just stands there, watching him.

Her eyes come to rest on the right side of his face and she frowns, as if in pain herself. Anakin's hand raise to touch the scar that cross his brow. It's uncovered and the skin he finds there is smooth, firmly closed but distinctively different from the flesh around it.

"He did that."

It's not a question, and Anakin hates that she can see the truth so easily. He looks away, through the bay that looks down on Coruscant, his gaze fixating on the tiny form of a ship in the distance. It's only when it's gone that he responds, and his voice comes out strangled, and that's how he notices the lump in his throat.

"Yes."

"On Mustafar?"

He nods. He doesn't want to think about Mustafar. And certainly doesn't want to talk about it.

"Before or after he disarmed you?"

"I don't see how that matters, Ahsoka!" he snaps at her.

"Well you said he wouldn't want to kill you!"

Did he said that? His memories of the previous evening or fuzzy at best...

"Why would he?" he asks distractedly.

He's thinking back on what Obi-Wan has said to him... So much for _spying_ , his former Master had been immediately aware of his presence. And he'd said... He wants Anakin to follow him. To the Dark Side. That's no news, he'd already said so back on Mustafar, and on Baskara he had said "not yet". Two things he'd say again on Korriban.

So he's pretty certain that Obi-Wan doesn't want him dead, doesn't want to hurt him.

_But he hurt you..._

_No. That was different._

"Because he has fallen?" This time it's a question but her voice is small and Anakin barely registers it.

 _He didn't do it to hurt me but to_ mark _me._

The implications of that are both terrifying and... Arousing. Just the thought of it brings up a flush to Anakin's face, and a pull in his gut that has plagued him for nearly two months now every time his mind had wandered _there_ , immediately followed by guilt. That's not what he's supposed to feel. Actually, he's not even supposed to feel _anything_ about it.

He's a Jedi and a married man, and if those two facts are doubtlessly contradictory, they both mean the same thing in this situation: Obi-Wan had no right to do that, and Anakin shouldn't feel so strongly about it.

_Just like you weren't supposed to think about him in that shower, or in your bunk in that stolen ship, or in your room after that training session, or..._

"What you did the other day..."

Ahsoka tears him away from his thoughts and when he looks up at her, he can see she's worried. Was he zoning out thinking about how Obi-Wan, sometimes, when he lets his guard down or they bond flares up, turns him on?

_Oh Force, this is bad._

"The other day?"

_How long was I passed out?_

"It's been forty-nine hours, exactly. The Healers said you _exhausted_ yourself. But the Masters say you were touched by the Dark Side."

He stays silent, his gaze falling back on where his hands are gripping at the white sheet that covers him. "Touched by the Dark Side" they said, more like nearly got swallowed whole by it. 

"Was it because of what you did then? When you found..."

Anakin's head snaps back up, as her voice dies out, and he glares at Ahsoka, feeling an anger he never thought could be directed at his Padawan. But this has to stop.

"You can say his name, you know!"

She flinches.

"I..."

"Not _once_ , Ahsoka! You didn't say it once in five months! So what he's not worthy enough to you to even be allowed a name? Uh? Or are you trying to spare my feelings again?"

"I'm sorry!" she shouts back, and that's only then that he realize how he has raised his voice. "But if I do... Then I'll have to admit that he's the one who did all of this! My Master! And I can't! It just doesn't make sense!"

Anakin is left silent for a moment, her words ringing in his head.

_Leave it alone, leave it alone, leave it..._

" _Your_ Master?"

Her eyes go wide as she realize what she has said.

"I didn't mean... _You_ are... I didn't mean no disrespect, Master..."

He raises a dismissive hand, try to convey that it's all right, that he gets it, but as he is about to vocalize it, he sees Ahsoka blanches further, and has to raise his shields up, because what he has transmitted her was certainly _not_ reassurance.

But the burning jealousy that rises in him is not about his status as Ahsoka's Master. No it's about something he thought he had let go off years ago... Two years ago exactly, when there had been no more sign of Obi-Wan wanting to take on another apprentice.

He had dreaded the day where Obi-Wan would replace him. He could see it, clear as day. Another boy, eleven or twelve maybe, Temple raised as Anakin wasn't, already used to the Code and so much more knowledgeable and disciplined than he was. Someone Obi-Wan would take pleasure in teaching, someone who wouldn't argue with him all day long.

Someone who wasn't always so near to breaking, and who knew no attachment. 

Someone he would have chosen, rather than have thrust upon him by his own dying Master. 

In a way he'd been relieved that Ahsoka was for him to teach, if a bit - alright, a lot - annoyed at first. Because it had meant that Obi-Wan was still _his_ , that there wasn't anyone else to capture his attention and take over the place Anakin had carved in his heart over the years - or so he _had_ to believe, then, because that was Anakin's biggest problem, wasn't it? Too much feeling, incapable of just _letting go_ \- battling against the Code and Obi-Wan's scrupulous respect of it.

He knows they've joked about it before, about how in practice if not in name, Ahsoka ended up to be _their_ apprentice, because it was rather hard to catch one without the other - the exceptions being those rare times they were on live, because then Anakin would go to Padmé. But most of their mission were done together, and they commanded what amounted to five fleets together, assembled under the Open Circle insignia, a symbol whose meaning was they were one unit, two parts of a whole... 

"Forget about it, Ahsoka," he says finally. "Yes, I think it was," he admits, then precises, as his Padawan's face goes from a disturbing air of fear on which he refuse to reflect to puzzlement. "But it wouldn't have happened if he wasn't doing something at the same time. A ritual, I think, though I'm not sure what he was trying to do exactly. There was a lot of power involved." He frowns, trying to remember what had happened, how it had felt like at the very end, just before he passed out in the Council Chamber. "It felt... As if we were connected. Not just the two of us, I mean, to a whole lot of people. Millions. It was... Overwhelming."

Ahsoka eyes open wide and she nods, as if he's only confirming what she was already thinking.

“The Clones are gone. All of them.”

“Gone? Where?”

“That’s just the thing, Master. We can’t find them.”

Oh, he has a bad feeling about this.

“You can’t find _the fleet_?”

"Not just the fleet. The whole army. They stopped fighting the Sepies, took control of the ships. They went into hyperspace and we picked up no signal saying that they came out yet."

"And you think Obi-Wan is responsible?"

He already knows he is, he just want to know how Ahsoka - and probably the Council, too - knows it.

"You passed out at the same moment their comportment changed, according to the Jedi and non-clone officers present at the time."

He swears.

"Do the Council think _I_ have something to do with it?"

"I think you would have woken up in a cell if that was the case." Anakin is relieved to hear some trace of humor in her voice, even if it's about such a depressing concept.

"Right. Any casualties?"

"About a thousand clones. Sixty three systems lost to the enemy."

That's both a lot in term of sentient lives and few at the scale of the Galaxy. Maybe it's due to the decrease in Separatist fire in the last two months - something he's possibly the only one able to explain on this side of the conflict: Obi-Wan has killed their leaders on Mustafar, all except Dooku and Grievous. They're disorganized, but it won't last long. 

Ahsoka's comm buzzes. It's not a call, only an alert, and she points at the pile of clothes that await Anakin on a chair nearby his bed.

"The Council is ready to see you. You should dress up."

 

* * *

 

Oh, how he wishes Obi-Wan was here! He’s always been better at talking with the Masters, always the one to handle their reports to the Council, even when he _became_ the Council.

_Don't be stupid, there wouldn't be any need for this if Obi-Wan was here._

And he has to learn to stand up to the Council by himself. Stop lying and evading and start giving them his true thoughts... At least those that will lead him somewhere else than in a cell.

"Tell us, Skywalker. What does your Master want?"

It almost makes him regret immediately his decision to cooperate and he straightens up to look at Mace Windu, taken aback. Him calling Obi-Wan "Master" is a thing - and well, even though he is his friend, he is also _a_ Master, so it's the respectful thing to do, right? - but Windu saying that? In this context? he could as well be calling Anakin "Sith Apprentice". All around the room, the other members of the Council shift in their seats, clearly as uncomfortable with their leader's insinuation than Anakin is.

“You interrogated me. At length. I knew nothing of Obi-Wan’s plan - and note that I still don’t believe he had actual plans - and it hasn’t changed.”

“Then you haven’t been in contact with him?”

“I…”

“You said you had found him.”

“I did… But not… Not _physically_.” No need to talk about Mustafar. Or Baskara. Or the dream.

“With your bond. How did you do that?”

_Maybe also don't mention you were drunk out of your ass..._

“Well I’m the Chosen One, ain’t I? The Force guided me.”

He winces at his own answer, but Master Windu seems to accept it with nothing more than a twitch of his eyebrow.

"And you said something about a ritual? Any chance this has something to do with the situation at hand?"

"Well Ahsoka told me that _you_ told her I passed out at the same moment the Clones defected. And since I don't speak nor read Kittât... My guess is as good as yours."

"Kittât?"

"There was Sith speech involved in the ritual, yes."

The Masters exchange grimy looks, and Master Mundi speaks up.

"Then he has truly fallen?"

"I'd say that butchering the Chancellor, twelve Senators and twenty five guards is enough to qualify one man as fallen, Ki-Adi," Master Windu replies without looking away from Anakin. It's him who looks away instead. He can't read Windu's thoughts, for the Master of the Order is too strong in the Force to let even him inside, but he can feel resentment emanating from him. He isn't even trying to hold it back.

Not a surprise, even coming from someone who should have a better hold on his emotions. He probably wishes that Anakin had fallen instead of Obi-Wan, Chosen One or not.

Or he thinks Obi-Wan's fall is Anakin's fault. 

"How do you think he learned of this ritual?"

"My... inquiries have led me to believe that he's in the possession of a Sith Holocron, along with antic scrolls and tablets." 

"Were they drawn in blood?" Jocasta Nu pipes up. 

Anakin turns to her, surprised both by her question, and by her presence, that he hadn't really noticed until then. The Chief Librarian rarely bothers to leaves the Archives, even though she has a seat on the Council. Her being there is a sure sign that the situation is dire.

"The symbols, you mean?" She nods sharply and he Anakin conjures once more the memory of the ritual.

The Kittât letters had been dark on pale skin, he can tell that much, for he had been fascinated by the contrast, before he got captivated by the voice. He closes his eyes and, yes, there it is, in the artificial darkness created by his eyelids, a flash of dark red upon a clavicle, the smell of blood in his nostrils, the thick coating over fingers he's dreamed to many times about...

A soft laugh echoes in his ears, the ghost of fingers on his nape.

He opens his eyes, forces himself to look at the Librarian who's watching him expectantly. 

"Yes. Blood of the clones." 

"Blood magic. Fett's genetic code is present in all of them. He would have taken blood from the 212th. Now he controls them all."

"Do we know of a way to reverse it?" Master Windu asks.

"Killing the Sith should do the trick." 

"Where is Master Yoda?" Anakin asks suddenly, his voice echoing too loudly in the chamber. The Grand Master wasn't there either during his previous meeting with the Council. 

"He's working with Senator Amidala."

"What?" And here is something to distract him from the idea of the Council being intent on executing Obi-Wan _again_. "Isn't that... Illegal?"

The Jedi are at the service of the Republic, not of one party. As much as he's biased in favor of Padmé, if she has the Order working for her specifically... That's not a good thing. And she didn't even talked to him about it! Just like she didn't told him she was a candidate for the Chancellery. How many of those secrets is he going to uncover without her telling him anything?

"From a certain point of view, maybe. But we believe that Senator Amidala is the best suited for the job, given how disastrous has been Amedda's rule so far. And besides, Master Yoda is only offering _advice_. For the good of the Republic."

Master Windu's tone stays impassible as he speaks, but his eyes are defiant, as if he's just waiting for Anakin to call him out. He doesn't. He doesn't need them to have another reason to mistrust him. He needs all the leeway he can get from them, all the freedom he can scrap if he wants to do what needs to be done... Which he's still isn't sure _how_ to do but he'll cross this bridge when he gets there. 

_That's what we do, improvise, make a mess, solve it in the most spectacular way possible._

"Until we get the army back," Windu says finally, "we'll need every Jedi on the field. Skywalker, you're leaving for Ilum in an hour... And you're not going alone."

Anakin opens his mouth to protest but Master Windu cuts in before he can say anything.

"This is not up for discution, Skywalker. You need a lightsaber, you'll get a lightsaber, but I'm not risking you running off on your own again."

He doesn't say what they're probably all thinking. That if he really wants to, it's not one Jedi that will prevent him to take off. At least not physically. He can count on one hand the Jedi that can beat him in a duel, and four of them are in this room.

Well, Master Yoda may be able to beat him as well. Not that he has ever tried fighting him, but he's heard _rumors_.

He bows distractedly and gets out, imagining the antic being jumping around like some wrinkled frog.

A man is waiting outside of the Chamber, and he nods gravely at Anakin.

"Master Ry-Gaul," Anakin salutes him. "I think they have still some stuff to discuss, you'll be waiting a while."

"Skywalker," Ry-Gaul responds. "I'm here for you actually. I was told you're in need of a new lightsaber? I'm your... escort."

_Oh great._

He'd hoped he could get into a ship before his chaperon could get to him but it seems like Master Windu has really thought it out.

 _At least he could have assigned me to someone who knows what the word_ fun _means_. Not that he's in a mood to have fun himself, to be honest, but Master Ry-Gaul is notorious for being a man of a few words, thoughful and laconic. The journey to Ilum is going to be a silent one.

The way they slip away from the Temple doesn't sit right with him, and it's only his lassitude that stops him from going against Ry-Gaul's lead and make a scene. What's the Council's problem? Do they think that the mere sight of Anakin is enough to corrupt their precious younglings if he where to go down the largest halls of the Temple, to walk across the Room of the Thousand Fountains or even use the main docking bay? It's not like their opinion of him is salvageable after he's been kept in the Temple's prison for "inquiry" or after the man who he was so close to that their friendship had given an entire armada its name had a such a meltdown that he had not only turned to the Dark Side but also decapitated the Republic. His image has been tarnished irremediably.

He doesn't care. But it still pisses him off that the Council does. 

Without thinking, he reaches out through the bond to share his annoyance, something he has taken the habit to do after he was knighted, once it had become clear enough that Obi-Wan would not reprimand him anymore for his short temper. From the other end comes a weird answer, though. It's joy and excitation, and it somehow sooth his own turmoil until he manage to think that, _hey, maybe that's not a good thing,_ given that the last positive thing he has felt coming from from Obi-Wan was his satisfaction at having stolen the Republic's Army - and his fingertips on his skin. 

_And none of that is good._

He shrugs him off, concentrating on piloting - getting out of the narrow hangar, getting out of the atmosphere, setting the coordinates before engaging light-speed.

It's going to be a quick visit, just going in and out, then somehow dumping Ry-Gaul and then, to Korriban. He'll build his lightsaber during the trip - Ry-Gaul has dumped a bag in his arm as they descended to the hangar, and he has all the needed pieces with him, and then some - and then he can only pray to the Force that Obi-Wan hasn't yet left the Sith planet. 

But even if he has left... The army should be there, right? Somewhere among the systems that 

It should go well enough.

 

* * *

 

  
It doesn't go well. 

The caves aren't exactly warm, what with the planet being one giant snowball but usually the Force, so powerful here, keeps the chill somewhat away. Not today, though. Anakin's breath is a heavy cloud in front of his face, and he's trembling in his however thick robes.

It's not the only thing that's unusual. Ilum sings to the Force sensitive, it hums and caress and appease. But today what Anakin feels, permeating the ice cold air, exuding from the crystals in waves, is agitation. An agitation that turns into something approaching hostility as he goes further and further into the caves.

Ry-Gaul has stayed on the ship, and Anakin is starting to resent the tradition that says that a Jedi must go alone to search for their crystal. All his instincts are telling him to get out, that this place isn't for him anymore. 

What the fuck is happening? He's been to Ilum more than he care to admit but this has never happened. And he has never heard of it happening to anyone else.

He's gotten slower, and his teeth are clacking, and he really regrets not having brought something warmer. 

He dares to drag his fingers across the surface of a few crystals, but the only reaction he gets from them is jarring rejection.

"Way to welcome the Chosen One," he grumbles, his voice shaking. It sounds so feeble, too, as if Ilum is trying to smother every trace of him. 

He tries to pick up his pace, find a damn crystal as soon as possible and get the fuck out of here. He isn't welcome, and it terrifies him. - _The Hero With No Fear, sent flying by a bunch of rocks_ \- But the cold has gotten to his legs, and they feel like stone as he drags his feet on the uneven ground.

Is this another consequence of him being bonded to a Sith? Is he so corrupted already that the Light is rejecting him? Then is there even any hope for his Master?

The crystals around him are almost vibrating, as if they can't stand his mere presence. 

He falls to his knees, the pain caused by his kneecaps colliding with the hard floor almost shaking his legs awake. Almost. 

He curls up on the ground, chasing the meager heat that subside inside his robes. Soon that too is gone.

"Help me."

Warmth floods him, along with a wave of indignation and anger that is neither his nor the crystals. It's a wave that rolls from the back of his neck and along his back, making him arches away from the ground, then spreading all across his body, with a heat that evokes rivers of lava and the fire of battle. _"Anakin! Where are you? What's happening?"_

"Ilum. The caves... I can't..."

 _"Move!"_   And he can move again, though his limbs are still somewhat shaky and unsteady. He crawls in the direction of the nearest heap of crystals and grabs one of the translucent living stones sticking out of the cave's floor. 

_"Don't hesitate. You need it. Take it."_

It screams as he closes his hand on it, and that screams echoes all across the caves, as if the crystals share one mind, and the pain of one of them is the pain of all.

_"Take it. Make it yours. It'll submit to your will if you really want it."_

He can't ignore this voice. Can't relinquish his hold on the crystal. It's a voice he has learn to obey to in the midst of battle, when a second of hesitation can make all the difference between victory and defeat, between life and death. And _this_ is life and death. A Jedi's lightsaber is his life, the voice that's now in his head has hammered into him as he had lost a saber after another. 

**_"TAKE IT."_ **

Anakin lets out a cry that merge into the Kyber's scream, and the crystal brakes in his hand, cutting his palm open, and he thinks for a second that his blood is seeping into the living crystal, but no....

The crystal is bleeding, turning a chocking crimson in the pale light that emanate from the others. And Anakin can feel it, forcefully attuned to him, different of every crystal he has owned before. It's wounded and furious, when he's used to quiet power and harmony. And his hold on it is like a slave's collar: it'll get results but no joy, unless he one day manages to find join in the pain of a living thing.

And it's not about to happen, is it? 


	12. Summit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me when I started this fic: who's got time for research I'll make up shit who even cares?  
> Me now: NO WAIT I have to know the exact model of this ship and his fucking SIZE or I'm going to DIE.

It takes Obi-Wan about an hour to get back to the surface. He has to go up flight of stairs after flights of stairs, and sometimes there isn't even stairs to climb and he has to use the Force to jump over chasms where time - or war - has brought down part of the internal structure.

He gets back to the the ship they came in and the officer's cabin where he passes out as soon as his head hits the mattress. The ritual has exhausted him and he isn't even sure when was the last time he slept. Three days ago, maybe? 

Nothing exceptional for an ex-Jedi, though. Battles don't wait for you to have your beauty sleep.

It takes only another couple of hours before the first ship shows up over Korriban and Cody comes in to shake him awake. There isn't any trace of doubt left on his face as he looks down on Obi-Wan, and he doesn't flinch as the Sith opens his tired yellow eyes.

He watches them land, wondering what people are thinking of their sudden disappearance. Oh, how he wishes he could see the face of the members of the Council right now! Even them must have some trouble keeping their calm in such an unexpected situation!

The Senate must be in chaos, and he feels an undeniable satisfaction at being the cause of said chaos for the second time in five months. He's never liked politicians, even though many people have said that he would do a good one himself. Most of them are so full of themselves, so sure to be untouchable... It pleases him to think that he can make them fear for their own security from systems away.

He wonders who will be blamed for this. Amedda, maybe, or the Jedi. Or maybe the winning theory will be that the Clones have rebelled. There isn't a shortage of people thinking they should...

He thinks and thinks on it, and soon comes an idea. He isn't ashamed to admit that he's mostly improvising - just like he's always done - letting his emotions guide him - _that_ is something new, and somehow liberating - and reacting to the tide. He wasn't sure how he would use the army, just that he needed it to get to the top. But now...

He eyes his growing fleet, searching for the biggest, baddest ship he can get. There isn't much choice yet, only standard, boring troop transports and  and... Ah, there it is, descending into the almost opaque upper atmosphere, something that will do.

He takes a fighter to fly up to it, a few Clones from the 212th following him without a word being exchanged. He doesn't need to give any order anymore, not with them, or any of their bothers. They will follow his thoughts, and those who are still dispersed across the Galaxy will keep coming, the imprinted order of "come to Korriban" leading them to the Sith world. There they'll set up base, using the main ziggurat as headquarters.

He settles on the main bridge, taking up a large chair that looks down on the nose of the ship through a viewing bay. He's missed this, those last few months, and he isn't sure if it's the Sith in him that enjoys the feeling of power that being in control of a warship procures him or if it's just the familiarity of it that's comforting. In the end he decides it's not important. What's important is that it feels _good_. 

What would make it perfect is Anakin by his side, though that might happen sooner than he had hoped to, if he's still on Coruscant.

Obi-Wan has contacts there, people who don't seem to care that his allegiance have switched from the Order to... Well, to himself. Or that he murdered the Chancellor for that matters. Anakin has been spotted getting out of a Naboo cruiser three days ago, and a bit later buying alcohol. Obi-Wan supposes it's the reason for the peculiar taste of his incorporeal visit a few hours later, though he's curious to know how exactly it relates.

They're about half way when Obi-Wan orders them out of hyperspace. He has a message to send, which he forces himself to make short and to the point, rather than biting and venomous. He can do that the meeting actually takes place.

He's about to signal the pilot - not a Clone, he notes, the man must have had no other choice than to comply when the troopers on board suddenly decided that there mission was to leave the war behind and fly off to Korriban - to gear back up to lightspeed when he feels the familiar touch of Anakin's mind against his. He's clearly annoyed by something, and it only takes Obi-Wan a few seconds to discern the peculiar flavor of " _urgh, the Council_ ". He laughs out loud at this, earning himself a vaguely curious look from the men surrounding him.  

Oh, he can't wait to see him.

He's going to be furious, and Force if it isn't a look Obi-Wan loves to see on him.

 

* * *

 

The last day and a half has been a downright nightmare.

Padmé has been taking call after call since the "Clone Vanishing" - as the media instantly dubbed it - made four public adresses, had three meeting with Master Yoda and two Holo conferences with Queen Neeyutnee and her advisers. All that while knowing that her husband is passed out somewhere in that Temple she doesn't have access to.

And she's only slept two hours since she has woken up next to Anakin, naked, pleasantly sore and late for work. Now she wishes she'd just stayed in bed with him, slept some more and only woken up for some more sex. And food.

Speaking of which, she's ravenous. Pressing a button on her desk, she calls for a meal, which a droid brings her a few minutes later.

She's in the middle of her dessert - sliced pears with chocolate sirup - when her assistant transfers her a message.

She almost drops her fork at the sight.

It's Obi-Wan Kenobi, sitting in such a way in his chair that he makes it look like a throne - a tiny, blue and half transparent throne. 

_"I'm on my way to Coruscant. I would like to meet up with you. To... negotiate."_

She doesn't miss the beat in his speech, and she can't help but wonder if it means that the negotiation he's talking about are the aggressive kind Anakin told him about and she has since witnessed multiple times or if he's just playing with her.

_"Monument Plazza in two standard days should do. Good day, Senator."_

The message stops abruptly and she's left starring at the now empty space over the holo-projector.

_What in the stars was that about?_

There's not many ways to go about this. She calls Ahsoka. 

"What do you think he wants?" Padmé asks, after repeating the message to the young Togruta. She's known Obi-Wan longer but Ahsoka probably knows him better, what with having been the man's apprentice in all but name for now going on three years. And she's a Jedi, too. She probably understands best what motivation he can have, even after all that has happened recently.

_"Well the Masters think he's the one behind the Clone Vanishing but..."_

_Oh great._ Padmé sigh. That's exactly what they _don't_ need a military genius turned homicidal at the head of the greatest fleet in the galaxy.

_"What he plans to do with them? I really don't know, I'm sorry Padmé. I can't make sense of his behavior... You know I still don't get what triggered his fall?"_

Padmé has theories, but no idea which one checks out.

"Do you think he wants to conquer the Republic? He _did_ kill the Chancellor..."

_"I don't know. He has never really been interested by power."_

"But he was on the Council."

_"Not by choice, though? It isn't like being a Senator, Padmé, he didn't volunteered. He was voted in by the Masters and given a seat without never having a word to say."_

 Just like he'd been chosen to take on the Chosen One...

 _"And what Anakin told me... It doesn't really help getting a clear image of the situation. I mean... You know how_ _he gets about him..."_

 _Stars_ does she. She can still hear the voice of a younger, angrier Anakin, going "Obi-Wan this" and "Obi-Wan that" even while he was - so awkwardly, so endearingly - trying to seduce _her_. She can still see her husband's face after Obi-Wan walked in on them, how panicked he had been, how intent to run after him, to explain, to beg him to understand... And after she'd calmed him down, convinced him to wait, how he'd confessed he was afraid to lose the man's respect, and his friendship, after he had so blatantly ignored both his advice and teachings _and_ the Code.  

He hadn't been worried about Obi-Wan's state, though. They were both so used to daily violence, one of them coming back from a simple stroll with blaster burns and a bloodied face wasn't really out of the ordinary. She hadn't voiced her concerns, and she had quickly regretted it, just as she had regretted telling Anakin to stay. Maybe then he could have stopped him before he'd the irreparable.

He thinks it's his fault, she knows. That he should have, could have prevented it. And so he dived into this chase as soon as he was free from the Council's investigation, not seeming to grasp how low his mentor had fallen.

 _"He thinks he can be saved..._ _Even though they fought. He said Obi-Wan didn't want to kill him..."_

"They fought? When?"

_"About two months ago. On Mustafar. He didn't told you? That's how he lost his lightsaber."_

"No, he didn't told me."

Ahsoka is clearly hesitating to say more, and Padmé wants to reach through the holo to shake her, force her to release whatever information she has and Padmé doesn't.

 _"Oh. Anyway, that seemed enough for him. But Padmé... I've met darksiders, they aren't all blind murderers. he could have spared him because he has plans involving him. I just don't see_ what  _plans. And if Anakin knows them... He hasn't told me."_

She's equally stumped. What does a man raised to want nothing for himself would do once he's free to do as he pleases? 

_Wait until you talk to him, then maybe it will become clear._

"How is he anyway?" _"_

_The Healers think he's going to wake up soon."_

"If this meeting happens... He can't be there."

Ahsoka looks pensive for a while, then she nods.

_"I agree. He needs a new lightsaber. I'll talk to Master Windu. Maybe they can send him to Ilum while this happens."_

"He'll listen to you?" 

Ahsoka shrugs.

_"If he doesn't I'll remind him I've been dealing with his damn army for the last five months. See how he deals with it without my insights."_

Padmé nods. She still doesn't really understands the how Ahsoka ended up as the de-facto leader of the armada. There are other Jedi involved with the main army - though their numbers are thinning - older and higher ranking. But they all seem content with leaving the young Togruta calling the shots while they deal with smaller scale missions. Is it because of who her Master is? Do they think it's only a question of time before Anakin comes back? Or are they so taken up by their Code that none of them want to be the first to try and take up command?

It's not that she doubts of Ahsoka's capacity, or that she thinks that her young age makes her unsuited for the job. She was younger than Ahsoka is now when she was elected Queen, after all. But she knows Jedi usually prioritize experience and rank over talent and spirit, so it still kind of a strange decision.

_Or maybe they just think the Force is strong within her._

 

* * *

 

Of course Obi-Wan hasn't been in further contact with her, now that would be making things too easy. So Padmé has no way of knowing exactly when she's expected to show up at Monument Plaza. "Two standard days", he said, and he contacted her around noon, Coruscant time. So she choses to go just after noon, postponing every meeting planned for the rest of the day. She can still take calls while waiting, though, and she takes a handful of assistant with her, along with her guards.

The Plaza has been closed, along with the restaurants and other entertainment centers bordering it. She has rarely seen the place so quiet, and it adds to the anxiety of the wait.

_Because he's going to make me wait, ain't he?_

She stands next to the exposed mountain top for the best part of the afternoon. It's not a good day to be outside. The air is chilly and the winds blow strong. But she won't be caught resting inside. 

The sun is getting close to the artificial horizon line formed by the rooftops surrounding the Plaza when finally her personnal commlink buzzes.

_"We think he's here, Senator."_

"You _think_?"

_"Well, Senator, it's one of our ships, with all the right codes... But it's coming toward you."_

She turns around and, yes, there it is, growing larger and larger above the horizon, a star destroyer surrounded by a dozen of starfighters and followed by Coruscant's Police's gunships and airspeeders looking tiny and frankly useless in the destroyer's wake. It's an unusual sight in this sector, a ship this size - more than a kilometer long - floating above the skyscrapers. It goes against all the traffic rules of Coruscant, and is doubtlessly attracting more attention than she would like.

It's stops just at the right angle to hide the sinking sun, casting its enormous shadow over the Plaza. It's a Venator-Class Star Destroyer, if she knows her warships right. It's one from the Open Circle Armada, and the sight of the symbols painted on the hull like like two golden eyes circled in red make her shiver. She had refused to read too much into it when it had first been created, but now she can't help but hate the insignia. It's just one more things that link her husband to the man she's about to meet with, the symbol of a connection she can never hope to understand, never mind replace.

 _Don't think like that,_ she reprimands herself. _It's just a different type of relationship. He hasn't given his heart to Obi-Wan. He doesn't confide in him. He doesn't sleep with him._

And if she can help it, soon they won't have any connection at all. Because Obi-Wan Kenobi will be dead.

 

* * *

 

The troop transport lands on the opposite side of the Plaza from where Padmé's crew and guards are standing, and the access ramps opens up in a cloud of steam that quickly gets chased away by the wind.

First come out the troopers. Anonymous helmets and armors she used to associate with security fill up half of the Plaza in a show of force. But today the cadenced sound of their footstep makes her only think of war and terror. They deploy themselves in an arc that frames the ship's ramp, and wait. 

Obi-Wan comes out, swaggering down the ramp and walking into the open space as if he owns it. He's dressed in way darker tones than Padmé is used to see him, and she briefly wonder if this is a Sith thing, always dressing as if they're on their way to a funeral.

_Given how they like to kill people, maybe._

She has known this man for over a decade, has seen him fight his way through hundreds of droids and negotiate the fate of entire systems and yet she doesn't think she has ever taken his true measure. Now she realizes that, as much of a living legend he was, there was always some part of him that was... Contained.

The wind hasn't calmed down but it doesn't look like an hindrance as it flows around him, making cape billow and his usually impeccably coiffed hair flow away from his face. There is a wild look in his yellow eyes, and a feral smile on his lips. He exudes assurance and dominance, and Padmé straightens her posture in response. She won't let herself be intimidated by him. She stood up to men like him before, who thought that their power could give them immunity, only to end up defeated because of their very arrogance.

_Though he used to think like you, doesn't he? Don't be arrogant yourself. Don't underestimate him because he won't do the same with you._

He unclasps his lightsaber from his belt, holding it up in the air for a moment for all to see before giving it to the Clone Commander - Cody, most likely - that came in behind him. It doesn't do much to reassure Padmé though. Jedi - or Sith - don't really need their lightsaber to be lethal. She has seen Anakin send people flying into the air and into walls, and land with severe damages. She had also seen him crush windpipes with just a flex of the hand, once, and it's not something she ever wants to experience. 

She isn't too sure of how to address him. She refuse to call him by his first name, as if they were still friends. She can't use his military rank, since he's been demoted of it on motive of treason and mass murder. As for his Jedi rank... Well, it's not like there's any Jedi here to call her on it.

"Master Kenobi," she salutes him with a nod.

"Senator Amidala," he replies with a sharp smile. "I'm so happy to see you... Clothed."

He's spoken loud enough that everyone present on the Plaza has heard it and she can hear whispers coming from behind her. Against her best efforts to stays impassible, a blush rises up to her cheeks. They won't know what he is referring, and she isn't sure what's worse, that they all think she's had a liaison with a traitor or that said traitor could reveal hers and Anakin's relationship just on a whim. 

As he takes a last step toward Padmé, his gaze on her lose its focus and he looks above her shoulders to the guards and assistants that accompany her.

"So... No Jedi? I thought they would have wanted to take up on the occasion to bring me down."

He seems disappointed.

"I asked them not to. You said you wanted to negotiate..." He snorts but she goes on - _don't let him unsettle you_ \- "So I came here with only basic security, and I hope you'll respect that and keep this... Civil."

"Mhm, I can do civil," he replies as if mindlessly. He looks like he's searching for something behind her, and she has to refrain from turning around to look too.

"Why come to me?" she asks, trying to keep her annoyance at his behavior out of her voice. "I'm just a Senator among thousands... You should have gone to Acting Chancellor Amedda."

"You and I both know how useless Amedda is. He isn't going to win this election. You neither if I have a say in this, but for now you're the one who has gathered the largest following. You and your little party of idealist are basically running the show those days, because everyone else is too busy looking out for themselves. Also you have... _ties_ with the Order."

"What do you want?" she asks, deciding to cut to the chase - and to definitively ignore the way he said "ties", as if she's somehow sleeping with the whole Order.

"What do we all want?" he says as if the answer was that self-evident.

"Do you want to be put back in charge of the fleet?" she tries out.

He laughs, still not looking at her.

"I don't _want_ the fleet. I don't _want_ the army. _I've got them_. But... Yes. I guess we could say it that way. I want the Republic to stand down and let me handle the war. Not that you could actually stop me, but something official would be _nice_..."

"It's not in my power to..."

"And I want Anakin." Then only he looks at her, his golden eyes boring into hers. "Bring him to me. I want to talk to him."

"He isn't here. You should have asked when you first contacted me, maybe we could have arranged something."

"I know he was here two days ago. But I can't feel him now. Where is he?"

Those words chill her to the bone more efficiently that the cold evening wind.

"I don't know."

"And here I thought you two were inseparable," he deadpans. "Trouble in paradise?"

She isn't even sure what would be an honest answer to that.

"We're fine, thank you," she replies, bowing her head as if this was the genuine worry of a long time friend.

He snorts, his eyebrows going up in mock incredulity.

"Oh really? Well, enjoy it while it last, Senator, because your sad little affair is about to end..."

"We're _married_ ," she whispers furiously.

She regrets saying it instantly as the smug mask slips away and for a few seconds, he looks like he's going to hit her, 

"Doesn't matter," he says finally, but pain is too clear in his voice and now Padmé knows which one of her theories is true. Now how can she use this? Would she dare use it? "Because it won't last. We'll be reunited. And he'll forget all about you, like he should have done years ago."

It's her turn to laugh, though it doesn't come from joy.  

"The Dark Side must be an even more deluding force than I thought, Master Kenobi. He _loves me_. Has done so since we've met. You've lost him when you fell."

"Oh, did I?"

He steps forward then, and she doesn't need the Force to feel the tension permeating the Plaza kicking up another notch.

"It didn't seemed that way when he _begged me_ to come back to him, even after I carved into his pretty face..." _Anakin's pale, tired face, framed by messy curls and a bandage plastered on its right side..._ "As for the Dark Side... It's growing inside of him. Stronger and stronger everyday. See then how deluded you think I am when he finally falls. You'll beg me to take him with me because _you won't be able to handle it."_  

She doesn't want to - she doesn't believe him but she does believe in Anakin, and so she has to ask.

"Would you be ready to give back the fleet in exchange for him?"

He laughs incredulously.

"So you'd really sell him out, just like that? Your own husband? Must be something really profound you two have..." The laugh morphs into a sneer. "It's not an hostage situation, Padmé. It's a coup. The army is mine, and I'm _threatening_ you, not bargaining. I'm just being polite when I ask rather than take. But be sure that I won't stay polite if you resist me."

"He would understand why I have to ask. He serves the Republic just as I do."

"The _Republic_ ," Obi-Wan echoes, shaking his head in incredulous mockery. "As if he cares about..."

He freezes mid-sentence, his golden eyes losing focus, his face going slack.

"Anakin."

She can't help but look around, as if Anakin is suddenly going to show up there, when she knows he's on Ilum, two days away from Coruscant. She looks back to Obi-Wan, and that's when he exclaims, by all appearances talking to thin air: 

"Where are you? What's happening?"

He looks panicked now, a look she has never seen on his face - except that day, when he had barged in, but then he had been afraid for himself, afraid to be arrested or killed after his failed assassination attempt. Now he's afraid for Anakin, and though she shares the feeling - what's happening, what could have possibly have gone wrong on Ilum? - he's too clearly distraught for her to pass on the occasion.

She raises her hand.

Thirty tiny red dots appear all over Obi-Wan's frame, and she knows he's about to get shot down by the fire of thirty long range blasters. He can't possibly stop all of them. It's over...

But then he shouts:

"Move!"

And it's the whole Plaza that moves, as if mount Umate itself is waking up and trying to shake off the crust of civilization that covers more than ninety-nine percent of it.

Padmé falls to the ground, and when she can look up again the troopers have moved too, forming a protective wall between her side of the Plaza and Obi-Wan's collapsed form. Hands grab at Padmé and she starts struggling until she hears the voice of Gregar, the Captain of her guards.

"We have to get you out of there. They're going for the snipers."

As she lets him drag her upright she can indeed see troopers spreading in the direction of the surrounding buildings. 

"Do we give the order to take them out?"

"No. Let them go. Tell the snipers to stand down."

Her plan was to take out Obi-Wan alone, not sparks yet another war they can't win. Now that the element of surprise is gone, there is no way they can succeed without a bloodshed on both side.

Actually, she doubts they can succeed at all.

They're leaving the Plaza when she hears a scream behind her, something that she will doubtlessly replay again and again in her head, trying to give sense to the words: "Take it."

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka looks in horror at the transcript spread over the Holonet terminal.

It seems like one of Padmé's assistant has recorded the meeting on Monument Plaza, and sold it to several Holonet news sites.

The one she's reading is titled "Chancellery Candidate Meets With Palpatine's Murderer: Amidala's Secret Affair With Jedi Knight", and it's a shipwreck.

 

 _PA: "Master Kenobi,"_  
_O-WK: "Senator Amidala. So... No Jedi? I thought they would have wanted to take up on the occasion to bring me down."_  
_PA: "I asked them not to. You said you wanted to negotiate... So I came here with only basic security, and I hope you'll respect that and keep this... Civil."_  
_O-WK: "Mhm, I can do civil."_  
_PA: "Why come to me? I'm just a Senator among thousands... You should have gone to Acting Chancellor Amedda."_  
_O-WK: "You and I both know how useless Amedda is. He isn't going to win this election. You neither if I have a say in this, but for now you're the one who has gathered the largest following. You and your little party of idealist are basically running the show those days, because everyone else is too busy looking out for themselves. Also you have... ties with the Order."_  
_PA: "What do you want?"_  
_O-WK: "What do we all want?"_  
_PA: "Do you want to be put back in charge of the fleet?"_  
_O-WK: "I don't want the fleet. I don't want the army. I've got them. But... Yes. I guess we could say it that way. I want the Republic to stand down and let me handle the war. Not that you could actually stop me, but something official would be nice..."_  
_PA: "It's not in my power to..."_  
_O-WK: "And I want Anakin. Bring him to me. I want to talk to him."_  
_PA: "He isn't here. You should have asked when you first contacted me, maybe we could have arranged something."_  
_O-WK: "Where is he?"_  
_PA: "I don't know."_  
_O-WK: "And here I thought you two were inseparable. Trouble in paradise?"_  
_PA: "We're fine thank you."_  
_O-WK: "Oh really?"_  
_PA: "We're married."_  
_O-Wk: "I'm happy to hear that."_  
_PA: "Would you be ready to give back the fleet in exchange for him?"_  
_O-WK: "You'd sell him out, just like that? Your own husband? Must be something really profound you two have..."_  
_PA: "He would understand why I have to ask. He serves the Republic just as I do."_

  
_"The recording ends here,"_ the article states, _"as an earthquake shook the sector surrounding Monument Plaza (for more on that see...). Witnesses affirm that General Kenobi was about to be eliminated by the Senator's men when he was saved by the opportune quake, proving once more that the Force is with the Negotiator turned renegade.."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does any of this makes sense i don't even know haha i've been staring at this chapter for 6 days plz achieve me.

As soon as he's out of the caves, Anakin falls head first in the snow.

He's half of a mind of staying there, letting himself and the red blood crystal clutched against his chest be swallowed by the blizzard. He's giving himself a mental pep-talk when a pair of hands grabs the back of his robes and haul him up to his feet.

"What happened, Skywalker? I felt a disturbance in the Force..."

"And..." He has to stop to spit out snow. "And it didn't occur to you to come to help?" Anakin mumbles a he stumble toward the ship. "Could have died in there."

"I came as soon as you were out," Ry-Gaul replies, his voice as neutral as ever. "What happens in the caves is private matter... Unless your intentions are evil."

He slides a hand around Anakin's waist, who lets most of his weight rest on the older man. He's feeling so weak now, the surge of energy Obi-Wan provided him in the caves now entirely gone. He feels as if he's leaking, his life pouring out of him and into the vastness of the universe.

"I'm... Not sure what happened," he says when they're finally on board. He doesn't look at Ry-Gaul as he talks, fearing that the Jedi can see through his lies. "But the crystals were... Disturbed. I think something bad is coming. Something... That has to do with the Dark Side."

He peers at the Jedi Master from behind his lowered lashes, trying to gauge his reaction. But he only nods, looking pensive and solemn. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He's glad he's on a Jedi ship today, because that means he gets some privacy from his quiet but still annoyingly present companion. There's a small cabin, and he latches the door as soon as he gets inside. Then only he lets go of the Kyber, tossing in on his bed so he can go and find something to hide it in. He's still shaking from the cold, and he almost drops the living crystal several times as he wraps it into an under tunic that he slides under his thin pillow. Then it's himself that he wraps up, curling up on the bunk and falling almost immediately asleep.

He sleeps for hours, letting Ry-Gaul man the ship. It's not a peaceful sleep, though. He awakes often, only to fall back in an agitated slumber a minute later, and he dreams of things he'll only half remember when he'll wake up for good. 

There's a mountain, shaking and trembling until comes out a black dragon. There's blood running down the steps of the Jedi Temple, and Anakin slips in it as he tries to get up the stair. Then there's Obi-Wan's voice, coming from behind him as he stares into darkness, and a word: _"Sith'ari"_.

He wakes up sweating and panting, and now he regrets not having shed at least a layer of clothes before falling asleep. He does so now, and then doesn't stops at just one layer but makes his way to the shower. 

He stays a long time into the spray, letting the hot water work out the kinks in his muscles. He's been too tense lately, and with reason, but it's not a good thing for a warrior. He's going to hurt himself more than anyone else if he end up in a fight while in this state. He needs to practice, to move his body in other ways than nervous pacing and lamentably falling down.

_But there's just no time..._

Well, he could have had plenty of time, if he hadn't be ready to take off from wherever he would stay at the smallest sign of Obi-Wan. If he hadn't spent so much of it on this tiny piece of junk of a ship, with not even enough space for him to stretch out completely. When will he have that time? Not today. He has to build his lightsaber, and even though there's plenty more space on this ship, it's still not ideal. Not tomorrow. He'll land on Coruscant and take off immediately - or _almost_ immediately, he can't leave without seeing Padmé, even if briefly - for Korriban.  Maybe there... If there's nothing to find. He'll have time to waste on the Sith world, even though the idea isn't really appealing. Yes, he'll take some time for himself on Korriban.

Ry-Gaul is in the middle of a conversation when he comes into the cockpit, the blue, slightly flickering light of the holo painting his face in an ominous mask.

"...yes it seems that it happened at the same time..." He stops talking then, probably sensing Anakin's arrival. "Skywalker is there, Master Yoda."

"Don't interrupt yourself on my behalf," Anakin says, feeling overly grumpy after his agitated nap, and this blatant talking about him in his back doesn't help at all.

What did happen at the same time as what? Is this about the crystals rejecting him? Did something happened somewhere else in the Galaxy? 

"Worrying, this is," the tiny blue form of Master Yoda says. "Talk to you when you come back, I will." The holo flickers out.

"What was that about?" Anakin asks.

Ry-Gaul doesn't even look at him when he responds.

"Master business, Skywalker. You should rest some more, you feel... A bit weak in the Force."

 _Well fuck you,_ you _feel weak to me_ , Anakin thinks very loudly in the direction of the Master. And it's true. Even on his worse day he's still leagues more powerful than Ry-Gaul. 

" _You_ should rest. I'll fly."

The Master shrugs and leaves him the pilot seat without another word.

Not that there is much to do while they are in hyperspace. Just checking now and again that they're still on course. And that's exactly what he needs right now. Ry-Gaul out of his hair and unaware of what's happening on the ship, and a task that only require minimal attention while he builds his lightsaber.

He can't help but feel dread as he unrolls the clothe protecting the crystal, the faint red glow emanating from it getting stronger and stronger at each layer he takes off. He doesn't want to use it, doesn't want it to be _his_. And it seems that the crystals agrees with that feeling, but at that point there is no going back. As Obi-Wan ordered him, he has made it his by force, and now they are bound.

 

* * *

 

Anakin ditches his guardian as soon as they've landed - in the same backdoor hangar they've left from four days earlier - and starts walking in the direction of the main one, where his personal speeder his. At least he hopes so. The Jedi have a peculiar notion of private property. Other than their lightsabers, everything technically belongs to the Order. That speeder is Anakin's only because he's worked on it for so many years that it might as well be an entirely different machine than what he started with. Most of the Jedi know this, and would respect it, but there's always the ones that have been too long away from the Temple, and aren't caught up on this particular fact.

His plans to catch some alone time with Padmé before hightailing from the capital planet are ruined though, as he almost immediately run into Mace Windu.

The Master of the Order seems particularly tense, walking fast, almost aggressively through the Temple hallways.

He barely glances at Anakin, who think for a second he's going to be left alone, but it looks like the Force isn't really with him today.

"Skywalker. Follow me."

He leads him to one of the numerous Communication Center's briefing rooms. There are waiting about two dozens of Jedi, ready to take on their mission orders. 

They all seem to have just come back from their previous missions, giving out short summaries of the reports they will handle out digitally to be treated and compiled before heading back out. They're all given new orders and units sent from individual planetary armies.

Their numbers won't even come close to what the Clone army was, but the Republic is still determined to defend itself, it seems.

Anakin has to force himself to pay attention to the briefing, but to be honest, his heart isn't in it. He wants to see Padmé, and Ahsoka, and needs to get a move on, get back on a ship and fly to Korriban. Find Obi-Wan, or clues if he isn't there. 

He only notices he has started zoning out when Windu dismisses the assembly and the room empties. The look he gets as his fellow Jedi pass him make him feel naked, exposed, as if they know something about him... 

 _Can they feel the Dark Side on me?_ he wonders. _The crystals did, and they're just rocks._ Sentient rocks, maybe, but still less clever than Jedi trained to fight the Dark Side.

When they're all gone, Windu turns to him, his face sterner than ever. 

"There was a meeting," he states abruptly. He has never been the kind to sugarcoat, something that Anakin can appreciate. But it still makes him feel like _he_ has done something wrong. "Between Senator Amidala and Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"What?" Anakin asks dumbly. Has he heard correctly? _Padmé_ and _Obi-Wan_? Why? And when?

That's the next thing he asks, trying to look less like a gaping idiot and more like a General assessing a problematic situation.

"Two days ago, here on Coruscant."

 _Fuck, I knew going to Ilum instead of Korriban was a bad idea._ But if he knows his space routes right, Obi-Wan would have been half-way to Coruscant already the day he left for Ilum... He must have left has soon as the blood ritual was done. But then why tell Anakin to be patient, if he intended to come so soon after? He mustn't have known he was there, or he only had intended to speak to Padmé. But to tell her what?

"Why did they met?"

"To negotiate, I believe, though no accord was reached. The meeting was... interrupted before that."

Windu purses his lips, as if refraining to say more.

"Why wasn't I made aware? I should have been there!"

"And why is that, Skywalker?"

"Why... Why is that? Are you kidding me?"

 _Do I look like I'm kidding?_ says Windu's face.

"You're not a Master. You're not even on this Council anymore. Why should the Senator have brought you along to parlay why our enemy when we know that you're a potential liability?"

Is Windu being purposely obtuse? Even without talking about his personal motivations, he knows Obi-Wan better than anyone else, and he _does_ have the authority to supervise such a meeting. And a _liability_ , _really_?

"Is it because you consider your duty to protect _your wife_ from your former Master or because you still think you can bring Kenobi back?"

This effectively freezes Anakin on the spot. What? How does Master Windu knows...?

 _"I think everyone knows"_ , Ahsoka had said. But then why didn't the Council never took action?

"Because your duty is to the Order, Skywalker, and to the Republic."

"What... Padmé and I..."

"Oh, please, spare us, Skywalker. She spoke publicly of you being wed. It's all over the Holonet."

"What?"

"One of Amidala's assistants recorded their conversation and sold it. According to the Senator, at least. We proposed to conduct an investigation but she said she would handle it herself."

That sounds like something Padmé would do. Protect her people, even those she thinks may have betrayed her. Deal with it with dignity and humanity. Unless...

_No she wouldn't have done that..._

Why would she? A scandal at the eve of the election isn't good for her. And this is certainly not good for Anakin. Speaking of which...

"Are you going to banish me?"

He's half hoping that he does at this point. He could use the freedom.

He's also not so sure he _deserves_ to be a Jedi anymore. _Ilum_ didn't seem to think he does, and when a planet judges you that hard...

But there's still Ahsoka. Although her knighting is imminent, he's still her Master, and he doesn't want to abandon her more than he already did.

"No. I'm afraid we can't let go of you, Skywalker. As you may know, our effective are insufficient, and now with the Clones gone and into the hands of the enemy..."

_And you wouldn't let go of the Chosen One, would you?_

"But you will present yourself before the Judgment Circle."

 

* * *

 

There are about thirty Masters present, all standing in a Circle that only gets broken to let Anakin in. Among them is Ry-Gaul, and Anakin eyes him with suspicion. Wasn't he supposed to see Master Yoda? Is he already done then? The briefing did last quiet some time...

He's honestly surprised they have managed to get so many, though a good part of them are old and, strong in the Force but not so much in body anymore, so it makes sense that they're here keeping an eye on Temple business instead of running around on battlefields.

mace Windu takes a step forward, bringing him slightly inside the Circle.

"Do you know why you're here, Knight?"

Anakin straightens, standing tall before the Masters. He's not going to grovel before them. He's going to take whatever sentence they'll give him, but he's not ashamed of his love for Padmé. And whatever he says to them today, he doesn't intend to give it up.

"Because I broke the Code."

"You let yourself get attached. You swore an oath to another than the Order you belongs to. You're life isn't yours to give. Do you understand that, Knight?"

"I understand, _Master_."

He spits out the word like a curse, maintaining eye contact with Windu as he does so. There's only one person he has never minded calling Master, and this person isn't here.

"And yet you transgressed our rules." 

"I did Master."

"And have you anything to say in your defense, Knight?"

"No, Master."

Windu hums, then spread his hands.

"Now what shall we do about this?"

He looks around the room, awaiting for one of the Masters to speak up. 

“He has to learn how to let go.”

"But shouldn't he also be punished?"

"Why not both in the same go? We could..."

And it seems that as they talked, the Masters have joined into some sort of meditative union, for as soon as the idea is even evoked, they all plunge into his mind 

It's not like the last time, when the Council tried to gauge what had caused the taint Windu had felt about him. This time they are prepared, and he understands that them talking was just a decoy while they lull him into opening up. They've already decided what to do with him, probably hours after his infraction was made "official". 

So even though at first Anakin tries to curl up protectively around himself, to raise his shields high, they are already there, and he can't fight them off, all powerful that he is.

They go for his memories, poke at the links between them and the idea of _Padmé_ , and they turn it against him.

They show him Padmé dying, over and over again. Cut down by a Zabrak on Naboo. Blown up on Coruscant instead of her decoy. Shot on Geonosis. Shot on the Malevolence. Shot in the Senate. On Alderaan. They show her living him, in tears and in curses and in indifference. They show her with another and alone but leading the Galaxy and made content by the simple opportunity of serving the Galaxy, as Anakin should be... 

Again and again he sees her life ending, but it doesn't stop there. He's made to feel the grief of having her gone, has to experience life without her at his side. And in every one of those possible timelines he learns how to get over it, how to recenter himself around his mission, his devotion to the Force, though even in those scenarios he only feels vacuity.

They only stop when his tears have long dried out and he’s just kneeling there, unresponsive. He looks down at the ground underneath him. When did he fall? Wasn't he standing up a minute - or an age - ago?

He almost doesn't hear them over the ringing in his ears when they start speaking again.

"...feel that? You were right. We can leave it there..."

"It's a liability... For all of us."

"...potential security breach..."

"...corrupting him a bit more everyday..."

"We have to take care of it _now_..."

And they are back inside.

But the bond that exists between him and Obi-Wan is more than _attachment,_ and definitively more than a mere training bond.He can see it now, clear as day as the Masters rummage around it, trying to pull it off at the root. But what they don't get is that this bond isn't just one thread. It's a thousand threads, forged in years of common learning of the Force and in the fire of battles. It has been broken once, it's true, as Obi-Wan and him were torn apart by his Master's fall. But it has been rebuilt, stronger than ever and it's feeding of powers like those Masters have never seen the like of before: the bottomless well that are the Chosen One's Force abilities and the Dark Side, divided between such a small number of Sith that it's bound to be great within those who fall prey to it.

And they have awakened the darkness.

Anakin can feel a grin stretch his lips as Obi-Wan stirs at the other side of their bond. With a roar of pure furry he surges through it... And through Anakin into the physical world.

It's like a thought made reality, the way it appears, this visible embodiment of Obi-Wan's Force presence and Anakin wonders if he had looked similar when he did it himself. Clothed in smoke, and eyes shining with a light that remembers Anakin of the fires of Mustafar.

 

 

The Circle is like frozen, none of the Masters moving, neither to attack nor flee. As if time has stopped.

"You don't touch him," says the image of a Sith in the middle of the Jedi Masters. "You have _no right_ on him. Not anymore."

He moves, though Anakin can't say with certitude if he's actually walking or not. He goes to stand over Mace Windu and spits out:

"You won't break our bond! You won't break us apart, though you will regret having allowed us to be paired together in the first place, I swear it to you, Mace! You'll see that Order you hold so dear crumble under our reign and you'll die, knowing it was your mistakes and those of your predecessors that brought your ruin. I swear it." He then brings up two fingers to Windu's forehead and says: "But for now: be convinced you won this. And forget."

The Master of the Order falls to the ground, unconscious, and all the Masters with him.

Obi-Wan turns around to face Anakin, and in the blink of an eye, he's kneeling next to him.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he jokes, and Anakin wants to reach out, touch him, hold him, but he fears he's only going to find shadows and smoke.

"Where are you?" he asks instead. 

"I'm searching for Dooku," Obi-Wan responds with surprising honesty. "I have plans I for him..."

"What pl..."

Fingers over his lips stop him from finishing his question. The touch is like an electric surge - a sensation Anakin is well acquainted with - confirming that this... image of Obi-Wan is just pure energy rather than flesh and bones and Anakin can't help but gasp, his mouth falling open under the apparition's fingers. Obi-Wan smiles softly, a jarring contrast with both the situation and the physical contact.

"Now that would be ruining the surprise, don't you think?"

He bites his lips as he seems to ponder on his next move. Then he leans down to whisper in Anakin's ear.

"It's something just for you."

He can feel no breath on his skin, but his hair, only the same tension that he can still feel on his tongue, and he's ready to bet he's getting goosebumps. 

Obi-Wan leans back, and the smile on his face seems to have to many teeth in it, like that of some sea monster, but then Anakin blinks and his smile is normal again.

He gulps and chose to ignore the tricks of the Force presence. _This isn't physical,_ he reminds himself. _It's just an image._

"Why did you come here the other day?" he asks. "Why meet with Padmé?" 

He catches himself before he can add "and not me".

"I had... A few things to discuss with her. As our future Chancellor, you understand, she's in the best position to give me what I want."

It's seems a bit ridiculous when his eyes are basically fiery orbs, but Anakin can't help but think that there is something odd in the way Obi-Wan looks at him as he says that. 

"Now, about the Masters... You have to do as they tell you." 

"But..."

"No "but", Anakin. Do you want them to come digging in there again? To find out about your new lightsaber? Do you want them to change their mind on whether or not you're a Sith Apprentice?"

"No, Master," Anakin replies, immediately biting his tongue as he realize what he has said. 

 _You just basically told him you_ were _his Sith Apprentice, you complete moron._

A breathless laugh escapes Obi-Wan, as if he can't believe what he's hearing, though the smile that lingers on his lips says that he his pleased. Anakin can feel himself blush but doesn't look away, daring Obi-Wan to say something. And when he does, it's with a voice so charged with affection that Anakin can't even bring himself to correct him.

"It has to stay our secret for now, dear one. Let them believe they have tamed you, and when they're less expecting it... We'll strike."

"Strike?" Yeah, no tone of voice can make him agree with _that_." No, I won't let y..."

"I'll come for you," Obi-Wan cuts in before standing up. "Please, don't get killed."

Then he winks at him, and disappears. 

 

* * *

 

The Masters wake up a minute later, looking confused for a moment as they stand up and dust off their robes. But the confusion doesn't last long and they soon all look as satisfied as a bunch of people who don't allow themselves pride can look.

"You are free, now," Mace Windu says. "Of attachment and greed. Of the bounds of passion and of the Dark Side's clutches." 

The Masters disperse, not paying any more mind to the Knight whose psyche they just invaded.

"You're leaving in six," Windu says, and Anakin marvels at the serenity he exudes. There's no sign at all that he has just met with the projection of a former friend and colleague turned Sith. Just certitude in his mission and capacities. "You going to Christophsis. Your Padawan will be there. In the meantime, go get some rest, you look terrible."

Anakin is left standing there, mouth open in an aborted protest. Something along the lines of "Hey, _you_ are the reason I look this bad!" but first of all, he just compared before the Circle of Judgment, he's not ready for another round and secondly, even if he was, he also wants the Masters to think they succeeded in every way - and _not_ because Obi-Wan told him he had to, but because he'd be really fucked this time if they were to learn the truth - and he surmises that even the smallest act of defiance could lead them to look deeper into their work.

Right now he longs for his bed - and _Force_ , food - but before he can visit the dinning hall crash down, he has to go see Padmé.

They have to talk.

 

* * *

 

He calls at her apartment, only getting a pre-recorded message saying that the Senator is at her office. Good. He doesn't want to do this in a place that holds so much memories, even though those are now faded and empty of the emotions he used to associate with them. He also doesn't want to be in the last place he's seen Obi-Wan before his fall. It hadn't disturbed him so much when he was there a few days ago, probably because of how drunk - and then hangover - he was then, but he doesn't want to try his luck this time. 

He gets a fair amount of looks and whispers as he goes through the Senate Office Building's hallways. Some are resentful, others admiring or commiserating. He ignores them all, even the couple of Senators that tries to congratulate him on his wedding.   

Padmé looks tired, but she smiles nonetheless when she sees him coming in. He doesn't smile back. All he feels for her at this moment is anger and defiance. 

"Anakin! You're back!"

_Let's get this over with._

"You met with Obi-Wan."

She's standing up from her desk to come to him but she sits back down when she hears those words.

"I did, yes."

"When was it decided?"

"The day you left for Ilum," she sigh, running a hand through her hair. They're let down, cascading over a simple dress, as if she couldn't have bothered for something more complicated today. "He asked for it. Said he wanted to negotiate. And I agreed, because, well, we _need_ that army, don't we? As much as I was opposed to it in the first place, I have to admit they saved far too many innocents for me to to deny it now..."

"And it didn't occurred to you to tell me?" he almost spits out, starting to pace nervously the length of the office. "You know how long I've been searching for him!"

Padmé pales at the accusing tone in his voice, but she hold up her chin as she replies:

"And what would have you done? Run away with him? To do what? To _bring him back_? I _saw him_ , Anakin, there's no bringing him back!"

"You don't know that! You don't..."

"He sold us! He sold you! He orchestrated it all so both our reputations would be ruined!"

"No. You saod to Windu that it came from your..."

"Oh come on, have you heard the recording? It was cut with one precise goal: make it look like I've got myself a Jedi lover that I'm ready to sell out to advance my carrier. He wasn't interested in negotiating! He came to threatened me and shame me publicly!"

He ignores the "selling out part". He can still find the recording later to know exactly what she means by that, but if he understands this correctly and she was ready to sell Anakin out to get something from Obi-Wan... He can't say he disagree with that plan.

What interest him is Obi-Wan's motivations. Maybe that's something Padmé can help him with. It's part of her job, after all, read people and understand their motives, learn what they want and either give it to them or take it away, and she wouldn't be a good politician if she couldn't do it.

"And why would he do that?"

Of course he knows the answer already - today was only just one more confirmation if he ever needed one - and he raises his hand, the one that's made of flesh and blood, to run his fingers over his scar.

He sees Padmé's eyes follow the gesture, and he knows she knows where it comes from.

"Because he's a jealous maniac," she says, her tone biting, "and he's in love with you!"

Anakin can't help but laugh at that. It's a desperate, pitiful laugh, that ends on a noise that looks too much like a sob for his tastes.

"No he isn't," he says firmly, turning around to face the window. He's greeted by his own reflection, and it's like looking at a ghost. "Where did you get that idea?"

"From him? When he said that our marriage would not last and that you would come back to him?"

Anakin sighs. _Why? Why do you have to say things like that..._

"Is that on the Holonet, too?"

"No. The recording was heavily edited, he..."

"Good."

 _It's not because I'm obeying Obi-Wan,_ he repeats himself. _No, it would just be bad if people thought we're still... associated._

"That's all you have to say?"

He turns back to her, confident that his face his back to a neutral state, that the turmoil she has raised inside of him with those simple words is mastered.

"Don't you think I would have noticed?"

Surely, sometimes in those moments, when Anakin had caught himself staring a bit too long, crowding a little bit too close, no matter if it was in the dimness of a Star Destroyer's hallway or at the heart of a battle or at the door of the High Council's Chambers... In those bubbles of time when the guilt and the fear would go away and he'd just lose himself in the feel of Obi-Wan. How his presence at his side made him feel safer, and how he sometimes just can't look away as his lightsaber ignite or a blast of wind catch at clothing and hair and it's like the air itself is carrying the unique feeling that is his Force signature. He would have felt it, would have caught the spark of reciprocated attraction, if it had been there.

"We have a bond, Padmé, I would have noticed the difference if he'd suddenly developed feelings for me."

"What if it wasn't sudden?"

Oh, whatever  _this_ is, it was sudden, he's certain of it. It came from the Dark Side, and it came to lure Anakin in. Because the Force knows of his weaknesses, and now it's tempting him, testing his resolve, his determination to stay on the Light Side. He's been warned that this would happen, he just had never imagined it would take this form among all... 

And he's starting to think he's failing monumentally. 

_What a great Chosen One I am. Vanquished by lust and emotional instability._

He shakes his head, disgusted by his own weakness.

"No, it isn't that, Padmé. It's the Dark Side. It's making him say things he wouldn't even _think_ in normal circumstances..."

He can see she doesn't believe him. She doesn't understand, she has never done. She doesn't get that the Force isn't just some superstition randomly associated to individual capacities but that it has a will and a duality. That the Dark Side isn't just a fancy therm for that part of shadows that exist inside of every being but almost like a living entity, a virus that takes roots and corrupts and turns good men into "jealous maniacs", as she said, because those are the kind that burn down worlds.

He turns away from the window, and sees she has stood up from her desk, and has come close enough for them to reach out and touch each other. 

"I'm going back to the Temple. I'm leaving soon for Christophsis. I need to catch some sleep, and you need to get back to work."

He takes a step sideways to get away from her, not missing the pained surprise on Padmé's face as he does so. But he just can't do anything about that right now.

"You can rest at home, you know," she says halfheartedly. "I should be done soon, we can go together..."

"No, I have things to prepare. And I don't want to distract you."

What he really wants is to be done with this conversation, and he knows that it's going to degenerate if he stays any longer. They need some time apart right now.

 _You've seen her only for a few hours in five months and you already need time apart?_ a mocking voice that sounds suspiciously like Obi-Wan - fancy accent and all - says in his head. He pushes it away and steps up to Padmé, putting his hands on her delicate shoulders.

He's almost surprised as they stay firmly there, not straying to her back or neck. He doesn't feel any need to wrap her in his arms or to caress her soft skin.

Did the Masters manage to kill his desire for her along with his fear of loosing her?

He should probably be angry about that - _or not_ , he reminds himself. _Come on Skywalker, you could at least pretend you usually try to reign in those emotions_ \- but she's not what he needs to focus on right now. She's into capable hands - her owns - and he has his own problems to deal with.

"Don't worry, angel," he says, but the word sounds wrong on his tongue suddenly. "It's just a standard planet liberation mission, nothing I haven't done before."

She smiles a tiny sad smile before putting her head on his chest.

"Didn't you already free that one before?"

"As a matter of fact, I have. Should be like a stroll in the park this time."

 _Or maybe not,_ he muses. _Last time I had the greatest General in the Galaxy at my side. And he won't be there for this one. "_ _Don't get killed,"_ Obi-Wan said. _Well, this might be just what happens. And he's going to regret not letting me come to him._

Padmé puts a step between them and he bends down to kiss her on the corner of the lips. She sighs. He leaves.

He hasn't gone fifty meters outside of her office that he has to duck out of sight. He finds an alcove out of the way and has to sit down on the low bench that occupies it. 

He has trouble breathing, and panic is swelling in him. It had been contained while he was in the office, under the pressure of _appearing normal_ , but there is something seriously wrong about him, and his body and mind alike are revolting against it.

 _Nothing_. He has felt nothing for her, except anger and frustration at her actions. 

It was like the Padmé he loved was gone, and that woman there was only a pale copy of her. He hadn't even felt the twinge of her presence in the Force - or rather he had felt it, but only as if she had been a stranger, not the being he had been in love with for years and could recognize while walking eyes closed in a crowd.

He _wants_ to love Padmé, he wants the feeling of belonging with someone, and the Masters have taken that away from him.

Can he rebuild it? Can he fall in love with her again? How does that even work? It came so naturally the first time around, and so long ago, too... 

It makes him feel so powerless, like he's drifting on a current, the waters made of the will of other people. And the worse? The only thing that he knows could make him feel better right now is getting one of those very people at his side. However unstable and overwhelming his behavior has been for the past months, Obi-Wan has always been synonym of safety and certainty since he was ten years old, the person he knew he could go to when something wasn't right.

He almost reaches out to him, but this time it's his pride that stops him. He's the one who's supposed to save Obi-Wan, and yet he keeps getting rescued by a  _Sith_. Today was the third time, for Force sake! No, he has to get a hold of himself. _Take a deep breath, Skywalker. There is no emotion, there is peace... That's right, no emotions...  Just peace, and serenity..._

It takes some time, but he manages to calm down. To stand up, and walk calmly out of the building. He's going to do as Obi-Wan said, not because he's his apprentice or whatever, but because there is no reason to chase after him now that he has promised to come. He's going to get back to work. He's going to fight, and win. Win back Christophsis once more, and every Force damned planet the Council throws at him. He's the Hero With No Fear, and he's going to win every single one of those battles, without Clones, without General fucking Kenobi.

He doesn't need love, he doesn't need safety. Just himself, the Force and his cursed blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were like "what's the Judgment Circle never heard of that" I was searching for a form of punishment that would be applicable to a Knight and that wouldn't be exile. And that's the only thing that I've found, because every answer on every forum was either "they're indoctrinated from infancy so they don't break the Code" or "the prequels are bullshit why are we even discussing that?" Wookieepedia's definition had just this "The Judgment Circle was a Jedi tradition where if one or more Jedi overstepped their bounds, other Jedi would convene and find a passable solution," so it was kinda perfect for me to do as I pleased with it :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When in doubt, talk about how much your characters wanna bang each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was supposed to be much longer but the second part demanded more brain power than I was able to muster so I'm giving myself a few more days for that :D

The sun is setting when Anakin gets back to the Temple, but night and day doesn't matter in time of war, and he'll have to leave again in four hours. Enough time for him to prepare for the trip to the Outer Rim and take a nap. Maybe some get some food in, too. He’s going to live off rations for the foreseeable future and as frugal as the Temple’s meals are, they still beat protein bars.

He eats alone and quickly, sat in a quiet corner of the Temple's Refectory. He isn't in the mood to talk to anyone - not that he thinks anyone would want to talk to him right now, his association with the newest enemy of the Republic, his months long disappearance and the recent revelation of his relationship with Padmé probably not making him the most popular Jedi at the moment.

When he's done, he goes back to Obi-Wan's empty room.

Maybe it’s the guilt of not fighting more for what he believes to be his top priority mission, maybe it's the lingering traces of his earlier panic that make him seek the comfort and security this room still evokes to him. Or maybe he’s just missing Obi-Wan. Either way, he feels instantly better being in this place.

He sits on the bed, shedding the upper layers of his clothing, putting it all in a bundle on one side with Obi-Wan's abandoned training gear. Then he lies down, groaning as he stretches against the soft surface before setting down with a contented sigh.

His eyes falls on the datapad that still sits on the desk. On a whim, he calls it to him, rising his hand to catch it and... Almost dropping it as captors misfire. He swears at his mechno hand. He'll pack the other one and fix it during the travel to Christophsis.

He powers up the datapad, scrolling through the files stocked in it as he lays back down. He hadn't been interested in it the last time, assuming that it wouldn't contain any valuable information given that Obi-Wan hadn't been in his room since his fall. And it's seems that he wasn't wrong. Most of what he founds is notes about Obi-Wan and his travels across the Galaxy. Nothing sensible or really important but interesting tidbits his Master would have noticed about local environments or societies, lists of people he had to remember the name of, things that he had to remember doing more researches about in the Archives.

And there is a folder with Anakin's name on it, that he only hesitates briefly before opening.

It's not what he was expecting. Not at all.

What he was expecting another slew of notes, his Master's thoughts on Anakin's training, or maybe files destined to him, and that Obi-Wan never had the occasion to send.

But instead he finds a picture.

He barely recognize himself and has to wonder if it has been edited in any way because, in his opinion, he looks far more handsome there than he does in reality - though it might just be that he's gotten used to walk around with a tired, scarred face those last few months.

He's standing on what looks like the Temple's steps, staring down at the camera, his robes flying around him and his glare a cold, furious fire. There's also a faint bruise on his left cheek and Anakin knows instantly what day the picture has been taken. He had had a rough sparring session with Obi-Wan earlier, and then had wanted to go out, clear his head, maybe fly around in the speeder he had left at Padmé's the day before... He had caught the little flying droid as he was leaving, and had destroyed it almost immediately, as the Order had pretty strict rules about confidentiality and security. But it seems like the droid had managed to send off information before Anakin had struck it down.

_What does it mean? Where did Obi-Wan get that? And why does he have it?_

He powers the datapad off, his mind reeling and his heart beating fast, feeling like he has stumbled upon something he wasn't supposed to. 

He try to keep himself from thinking about it, but the though still comes, a bad weed both he and the Masters failed to pull off. 

_Does it means that Padmé was right?_   _Was Obi-Wan attracted to me before turning to the Dark Side?_

"No," he says aloud.

_No, this is just wishful thinking_

He has to get this out off his head. He can't let himself pine after Obi-Wan like than, not in the present situation, not ever. 

First off: Obi-Wan is...  _Was_  his Master, and he owes him more respect than that. And even though he has often found himself disagreeing with the Code, Anakin knows its value, and the truth that resides in it. Obi-Wan has told him that, and he'll follow his teachings even if Obi-Wan himself has forsaken them.

He has almost lost him today - or would have, maybe, if their bond wasn't so unnaturally strong - he should just be content with what he has... Or will have once he has brought back Obi-Wan to the light.

_And don't forget about Padmé._

But that one is even harder. Even though he doesn't want to give up on his feelings for her... The fact is that they are gone. He barely remembers how it was back then, when they had met again and in the early days of their marriage, when every second was filled with the burning desire he had for her. He knows it as a concept, can compare the idea of what he feels now as he pictures Obi-Wan lying on this same bed, staring at that stolen image of Anakin and maybe - and that idea alone makes Anakin flip over and bury his face in the pillow with a groan - touching himself, moaning his name...  _Stop it -_ But he can't  _feel_  it anymore.

There's still enough Ambrostine in the bottle he left there to get a man drunk. He only takes two swigs of it before putting it done, though. He has to get up in less than four hours, and he doesn't want to have to do it with the same kind of headache the alcohol gave him the last time. But it'll help him into sleep.

He forces himself to relax, chasing away any thought of Padmé or sex with Obi-Wan, focusing on how the Force feels around him instead.

It is really the strangest of feelings, how the slowly fading echoes of Obi-Wan present in the room contrast with his actual Force presence at the other end of the bond. It somehow reminds Anakin of falling asleep near battlefields, back to back with the man he trusts the most in the entire galaxy, while all around him all his chaos, roaring furnaces and clamor of dying soldiers.

And for the few minutes it takes him to fall asleep, he feels true balance.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan comes back to himself his hand still on his dick.

It would be embarrassing if he still were giving any fucks about "proper Jedi behavior". As it is, he knows there is nothing to be ashamed of. He's alone in his quarters, and free to do and think whatever the fuck he wants.

He had been busy jacking off, thinking about Anakin and what he would do to him when would finally have the young man with him, when he had felt the prods against their bond, and Anakin's distress.  And he had left his body behind, crossing back over the expand of the Middle Rim and the Colonies in the blink of an eye and seeing the inside of the Temple for the first time since the day after he had fallen.  

He has found a few lines about this phenomenon, and it seems that it requires a tremendous amount of power - check, since the Dark Side divides itself in only a few in this day and age - a personal connection to the place or person you wish to visit - check, obviously - and in some measure, loss of inhibition and self consciousness. As far as he had known before today, there was two angles one could go about the last part: by way of meditation or by getting completely shit faced, like Anakin seemed to have done.

But it seems that letting yourself simply go with the flow also works. The flow of the Dark Side, that is, and all that comes with it. 

Rage, sorrow, exultation, lust... Emotions that make one forget about their usual limits and boundaries.

Today it was lust. 

_Ah, who am I kidding, it's lust almost everyday, now._

Not that he had exactly been inactive or even celibate when he was still a Jedi. He had had his fill of one night stands in his twenties, though it had almost stopped when he'd been saddled with his young and demanding Padawan. But those last years, with the war and, well, with his growing attraction to said Padawan, it had been another story entirely and though physical needs aren't something that disappear when becoming a Jedi, they sure are easier to repress. So he had repressed.

Until his fall.

If he has to be perfectly honest, an increased sex drive was the last thing he had thought would come with his falling to the Dark Side - in the rare occasions he would think of such an event - but in retrospective, it shouldn't have been that surprising. Passion is an inherent part of being a Sith and Force knows he is passionate about Anakin.

But Anakin wasn't there - still isn't, but not for much longer now - so he had to find other ways to blow of the steam.

He had quickly given up on trying to relieve his needs with others. Strangers weren't doing it, not when all he could see when fucking them was golden locks and blue eyes and long legs and strong arms, one of lean muscles and the other of hard metal. And he refused to fall so low as to seek out a cheap knock off. 

So it was fair to say Obi-Wan was spending more time than he would like to admit - even with a somewhat deteriored sense of decency - with his own hand, getting lost in memories turned fantasies.

It had been easy, as he was already so cut off from his physical surrounding - except for the ring if his fingers around his flushed cock, but even that was easily forgotten when he'd felt Anakin's anguish - to make this illusion of himself, this image of his conciousness. Easy to let himself be guided by the one person who's occupying his mind at all time.

And then it had been easy - for different but not totally unrelated reasons - to make his choice. 

He won't stop at political and military dominance, as he had fist thought, but he'll take all of it, because the Jedi don't deserve their power.

He hadn't been too focused on the Order at first, though his anger had been burning when they had first turned against him, he'd quickly got over it, too absorbed by the study of the Dark Side and his thoughts of Anakin.

But today was the last draw.

Not believing him when he'd told them that Palpatine was the Sith Lord they'd been searching for all this years had been bad enough. Obi-Wan had been nothing but loyal to the Order, the perfect Jedi, following the Code to the letter. How could they have think for even a second that he would commit such an act without proof, without the absolute certainty that the Chancellor was their true enemy? Were they just too blinded by pride that they had refuse to accept that they had been fooled?

He had let that slide, though. He wasn't lost so far that he had thought their betrayal should warrant death. 

He'd felt bouts of anger every now and then, as the time passed and he'd discovered how much more powerful he was now, the things he could do and how easily he could do them. He'd always been good at warping the minds of non Force sensitives, but now he excelled at it and what he had done today... As he had come to realize that he'd been torn away from his family and suffered all those years of intense training and self discipline to, in the end be so  _weak._ That his potential had been almost irremediably ruined because the Order was too set in its way, to afraid of power but still abusing it, preferring to smother children rather than see them becoming too strong to be controlled.

But he had let that slide too. He was catching up, and soon enough he would help Anakin reach his full potential too, something he should have done all along instead of trying to mold him to the Jedi's template.

What they had just tried to do to Anakin, though, and to Obi-Wan himself... That was what would seal their end. The Masters would pay, and not only those who had been part of the Judgment Circle, but also the members of the Council, who probably would have agreed and participated if they hadn't been busy somewhere else.

They had no right to come between them, no right to try and break that bond that united them. Anakin is  _his_.

_He's starting to realize it, too_ , he reminds himself with satisfaction. He'd called him Master again, and just after Obi-Wan had talked about him as his apprentice. And he'd accepted his orders... Hadn't he? He'd protested at Obi-Wan's promise to destroy the Order, but that was only because he still doesn't see the full expand of their betrayal, still doesn't see the full picture. 

But he won't even think about it when they get back together.

He'll be too busy for that.

_I'll keep him busy._

And then he'll understand, once he has seen the truth if the Dark Side, he'll see. He will agree that it needs to be done.

_I can't wait to start_.

Waiting is so much harder than he thought. He's surprised he has lasted as long as he did.

_Force, I’m going to fuck him all over that Temple when I’m done with it._

 


	15. Chapter 15

It takes Anakin five days to get to the Outer Rim planet, and he spends them mostly in his quarters, fixing up his arm and reading reports after reports. Irritatingly, they keep coming as the days pass, from all fronts where ships of their fledgling armada have been sent. He wasn't expecting on getting back to the same exact position as he was before, both because it had came when he and Obi-Wan where a package deal where his former Master was the one dealing with the strategy and Anakin himself was the more physically implicated and because he didn't think the Council would trust him enough to order the others to refer to him.

But it seems like the Council is convinced that he's now as trustworthy as can be, washed clean of his attachments and potential for going Dark Side.

He doesn't want those responsibilities. He isn't even sure he should be trusted with the fleet. What if Obi-Wan uses their bond to somehow sabotage them? He said he wanted to destroy the Order, after all. And what will happen when he does come for Anakin? He'll have to leave the army again, then, because it will be his only chance to win his friend back to their side.

 _"Do as they tell you."_ Easy to say. Obi-Wan isn't the one who has to hide a Sith Blade while in the middle of a war zone. He isn't the one who is getting eaten alive by guilt and despair, while not being allowed to even feel those emotions. He isn't the one who wants has been cut out of something that has been part of his very being for years.

No, _he_ can do whatever the fuck he wants, like killing people, and quitting the Order, and fucking with Anakin's head.

 _Don't be mad at him,_ he repeats to himself. _It's not his fault. It's the Dark Side..._

He can't let anger get the best of him. And he can't be angry at Obi-Wan for personal motives.

So he sucks it up, and meditates.

 _If he had knew it was the best way to make me do it, maybe Obi-Wan would have turned to the Dark Side much sooner_ , he thinks on the third day. The idea makes him laugh at first, but then it makes him sad again, and he goes back to meditating, and reading reports.

Ahsoka welcomes him when he makes planetfall, catching him up on the situation as they walk to the temporary command center, set up in one of the tall towers that look up on a partially destroyed city. 

It isn't as bad as the first time around, and he likes to think that it is thanks to Ahsoka, and how well he has taught her, but it's probably more about the Separatists Army's state of disorganization. It doesn't keep him from being proud of her, though, and of all the way she has come since she has seen her first battlefield, on this very same planet.

Their mission this time is to chase and keep the enemy off of Christophsis long enough that they can put in place a planetary shield. It's new tech, yet untested in a real conflict, but with the state of the army, they can't afford to keep enough troops to keep the planet secure until victory. They're going to have to spread thin, even more so than before, and as soon as this is done Anakin and Ahsoka are jumping to the next assailed world.

He manages to keep off the fights for a while, staying put when the men move, sending Ahsoka on his behalf. It makes him feel guilty, but he pushes the feeling away by telling himself that a General's role is to supervise the army, and no one will hold it against him that he does it from afar, where he can keep in mind the bigger picture. The few times he has to cross the battlefield, he only uses the Force, pushing droids around or crushing them with a tightened fist. It earns him a good deal of whispers and awed looks from the men, who for the most part are experiencing their first fight alongside a Jedi. Though he also notices that most of them _fear_ him, whereas what they feel for Ahsoka is actual admiration and camaraderie. 

They get ambushed on the sixth day, during a reckon mission, and finally Anakin has to fight.

He's not really paying attention, and even though it wouldn't be a problem usually, connected like he his with the Force, he should have sensed danger coming at least a few seconds before, but he's too focused on the hum of the bond that links him to Obi-Wan. 

He's worried about him, both for his life and what he might be up to. Though he can feel him alive at the other end of their bond, that doesn't mean he can't get killed at any moment.

Just like he means safety for Anakin, he also has also saved Obi-Wan's life over a dozen times so any long period of time they spend apart, he can't help but fear that every day that passes is the one he'll meet his end.

 _What is he really up to?_ He doesn't cease to wonder. He said he was looking for Dooku. For what purpose? To kill him or to join him? Having the leader of the Separatists dead would certainly be a nice surprise for Anakin, but who knows what qualifies for a fallen Obi-Wan?

And it doesn't help that they aren't sure where Dooku is themselves. He could be on any of the worlds the Separatists have reclaimed since Obi-Wan's stunt. He could be on Serenno, in his palace. He could be on a ship at any given point in the Galaxy, away from the hyperspace lanes. Space is big, and even more so when you're searching for someone who doesn't want to be found. Anakin has had the proof of that those last months if he had ever needed it.

So he's left picking up on mood shifts, though he can't read them as clearly as he once did. Maybe because they're much more intense now, and he doesn't know what to make of them. They're just not making sense in a context of "Obi-Wan". And he doesn't even know which one are the worst: those weird waves of heat that come straight at him, leaving him agitated and annoyingly horny or those black maelstroms of anger and bitterness that make him shut down his walls as tight as he can - though he can steal hear the wind, never entirely cut off. 

The end result is that he's basically listening to the wrong channel, and with the sound dialed up so loud even his eyes can't transmit information to his brain correctly.

Ahsoka saves him. She Force-pushes him out of a droideka's path, and into the rubble covered ground. He springs back up almost instantly, raising an open hand into which his lightsaber jumps, and he launches himself into action.

He has forgotten about the blade or a minute, the rush of battle drowning every other consideration. It's only when there isn't one droid left kicking and that he turns to Ahsoka to praise her quick reaction that he remembers. Her gaze is fixed on his lightsaber and its crimson blade. 

"Where... Where did you get that, Master?"

He depowers the weapon, hooks it at his belt.

"It's mine."

She takes a step back, raising her own lightsaber - it's still on, illuminating her face with its green glow, showing off the fear and heartbreak on her feature.

They'll have to talk about that once he has explained himself. Maybe. He doesn't really feel like the right person to lecture her on attachment right now.

"But it's no what you think," he takes a step toward her, hands held high. "It's because of my bond with Obi-Wan. The crystal... It reacted to it..."

"Stay where you are."

He stops. 

"Come on, Snips! Ahsoka. Lower your weapon! I'm not going to _hurt_ you!"

She doesn't bulge her eyes going from the lightsaber at his belt to this face and back down again, as if she's seriously expecting him to call the weapon to his hand and launch at her, _his own Padawan._   _Force_ , does he look so unstable?

"Would I still be there, fighting at your side, if I had fallen? Do you think the Masters would have let me leave the Temple free?" 

Not that he actually feels free. But he's not in chains, at least.

"You know I went back after Ilum! Master Windu himself told you I was coming! He wouldn't have sent me to you if he had any doubt!"

That last one seems to convince Ahsoka, though, because she lowers her lightsaber. It's the first time Anakin is truly thankful for the way the Jedi are taught to trust the Masters from infancy. Windu is the Master of the Order. If he hasn't sensed anything wrong with Anakin...

"You can't keep that bond."

He turns away from her, hiding the anger that must be showing on his face.

"I don't think that concerns you Ahsoka."

His voice sounds cold even to his own ears, but he doesn't feel any guilt about it. This bond is something between him and Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka doesn't have any right to decide what what to do of it, just like the Masters didn't have any right to try and destroy it.

"It doesn't concerns _me_? It concerns everyone, Master! It's dangerous for _you_ , for the _Order_ and the _Republic_! So as your Padawan and as a Jedi, yes, I think it _does_ concerns me!"

"It's not dangerous!" he almost shouts, now feeling weirdly frantic, as if she's some kind of deadly insect that he's trying to battle away. "It was just... It was because of that ritual he did! It settled down since! I can barely feel it now! I think it's fading..."

He's lying, of course, and so blatantly that he's expecting Ahsoka to call him out on it, to laugh in his face. But she just look at him with slightly glazed over eyes and says:

"If you say so, Master." Then she shakes her head and goes on, nothing amiss on her face or in her voice: "So what's next? Are you giving up on him? What are you doing here if not some... Secret sithly stuff."

"Did you think I was there as a mole the whole time?!" he exclaims, the offense that she could have thought so - when he was... Just there... Trying not to look sithly - almost chasing away both panic and puzzlement at her behavior. Almost.

_Did I used the Force on her?_

"The idea crossed my mind..." she trails, looking embarrassed. 

“I'm just..." he starts, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Waiting I suppose. He said he would come for me.”

The look she gives him makes _him_ look down in embarrassment. She sigh, and Anakin is relieved she doesn't vocalize whatever she has in mind, instead choosing to be practical by asking:

“So what do you plan to do when he does?”

He keeps staring at his boots. 

“You don’t have a plan, do you?”

His plan - if you can call that a plan - was to talk him out of it, make him see how what he was becoming was so clearly _wrong_ , the very same thing they had vowed to fight against. Surely he couldn't want to be _that_?

He had tried to on Mustafar, and it had gone so terribly wrong. Obi-Wan hadn’t listen to a word Anakin had said. Or rather, he had listened, but denied there was anything wrong with him.

And then he hadn’t really had the occasion to try, had he?

_Don’t make excuses, you were just too weak to seize those occasions._

Too caught up in his internal conflict and his feelings, too enraptured by this stranger in a familiar body, this foe wearing a friend's face. This new Obi-Wan, who has a way to make Anakin lose his footing, to make him forget the task at hand. And each time he had ended up _reacting_ instead of _acting._

_How can I get the upper hand?_

"Well first you need to capture him," Ahsoka says, responding to his unsaid question.

"But _how_ , Snips? I can't outsmart him, he taught me everything! And we're bonded! He'll see any treachery coming from a mile away."

He has thought about it before, but most of the time he just couldn't stand the idea that Obi-Wan would take it as an attack against him, so he hadn't pushed the idea further. It had been bad enough when they had fought, when Anakin had let the frustration of those three months spend chasing Obi-Wan take over, when his plea had been ignored and he had felt like the person standing before him was just another enemy. Their bond had been in shambles then, and he'd felt so heartbroken...

But now...

"So distract him. What does he want with you? Make him think he got that..."

There is the sound of an explosion in the distance, making them both raise their heads toward the sound, then looking at each other. 

"We should get a move on. We'll come up with something later."

"Together," Ahsoka says, resolution shining in her blue eyes.

Anakin nods.

"Together."

 

* * *

 

"Kenobi."

Following the ignited saber that has stopped an inch from his throat leads his gaze to none other than Asajj Ventress. She looks pissed off, as if him being there is a personal affront.

He has found Dooku on Serenno. A strike of luck, given that the Count has, as the rumors have it, not been there for months, probably running all around the Galaxy to rebuild the Separatist Council after Obi-Wan practically decapitated it. Oh, and killed his Sith Master.

"Hello, my dear."

Ventress sneers at him and he can see the tell tale tightening of muscles in her arms as she prepares to cut his head off...

"Let him pass."

Obi-Wan smiles at her as she lowers her lightsaber, looking so comically murderous that he pushes it to blowing her a kiss before going forward into the room. Funny, she seemed much more into it before.

 _"And your friend Vos... Did you know he died a Sith? That one is a courtesy of dear Ventress. Can you imagine they were in love? But then they had to go against Lord Tyrannus... Silly children..._ "

Maybe that's it. Maybe she misses Quinlan too much to be able to just nonchalantly flirt with another Jedi - well, ex-Jedi, but she probably still thinks of him as the enemy. Obi-Wan gets that. He would probably be in a bad mood too if someone were to take Anakin from him. Though what he doesn't get is why Ventress is still obeying Dooku.

_I would die trying to avenge him._

Maybe she's buying her time, waiting to be strong enough that she's sure to take down her Master.

_Too bad she won't have the occasion to try._

"Obi-Wan Kenobi...So the rumors are true. You did turn."

Dooku is sitting on a large sofa, a glass of what looks like corellian wine in his hand.

"So what brings you here?"

Obi-Wan side-eyes Ventress. He doesn't want her to be there for this conversation. What he's about to ask of Dooku is not going to please her. Not at all.

"If we could be alone for this conversation, I would greatly appreciate it."

Dooku raise an eyebrow at his request, but still dismisses Ventress with a nonchalant gesture.

"Can I?" Obi-Wan asks, indicating the sofa that makes an angle with the one Dooku's sitting on.

"You may. Though I hope you won't be disappointed if I don't pour you any wine," he looks around, feigning disappointment himself. "There doesn't seem to be any more glasses in the room."

Obi-Wan smiles indulgently.

"Not disappointed, no. I didn't even really expected to be welcomed in such a... civilized way, given our history." He reclines in the sofa, swinging one leg over the other as if he's sitting in his chair in the Council Chamber and not in the living room of a man he has fought against for years. "Now, let's get to the point."

"Let's," Dooku says, sipping his wine.

"I killed your Master."

"Yes."

"Take me as your apprentice."

It costs him to say this. He doesn't _want_ to be Dooku's apprentice. And he doesn't plan to be very long. Just long enough to pry some secrets from him and gain enough of his trust that he can lead him where he wants without the Sith Lord opposing too much resistance.

"Why? Why now, when I made you the offers years ago, only for you to turn me down."

"Well now that I fell... It would be good for me to have a teacher. And you taught my first Master. It seemed only natural to come to you now that we're on the same side again."

"Is that really all?"

Obi-Wan shrugs.

"I can only learn so much by reading... The Sith are awfully jealous of their knowledge, you know that?" He smiles, then, letting mockery seep in his voice. "Ah, of course you know... Given the quantity of knowledge Darth Sidious gloated about having retained from you... Mhm, now that I think about it, really, maybe you don't even know enough to teach me..."

"I know certainly enough..." Dooku bristles. "Lord Sidious wasn't the only source of Sith knowledge at my disposition."

"Can you show me how to hide that?" Obi-Wan asks, gesturing from his eyes to Dooku's dark gaze. "It's a bit troublesome, I have to say. And I haven't found out how to turn it off yet."

"That's because you let the Dark Side control you, when you should be the one to use it. It will be your first lesson as my apprentice."

Obi-Wan grits his teeth. He wants to scream at Dooku that he's wrong. That nothing is controlling him. Not anymore. He's free, truly free for the first time ever. But he placates a polite smile on his face, and nods gratefully.

" _If_ I accept you as my apprentice, that is. Now tell me, what, exactly, do you bring that should make me inclined to do so?"

"I bring you Anakin Skywalker."

Dooku's incredulity is clear and Obi-Wan doesn't like it. He knows Dooku has never held Anakin in great esteem, but this is frankly insulting.

"Now that's ridiculous. Why would I want _him_."

Obi-Wan bares his teeth at Dooku, who luckily - or not, Obi-Wan would actually quite enjoy a fight right here and now - has his eyes in the bottom of his drink.

_Fuck you old man, he's worth a hundred of you._

"You know the Jedi High Council thinks he's the Chosen One," he says patiently instead of wiping out his lightsaber.

"Yes, I recall that ridiculous theory," Dooku replies with a dismissive gesture. 

"And you know your Master believed it too. And he believed that he was the Sith'ari."

_Perfect strength, perfect power, perfect destiny._

"Adas was hailed as Sith'ari. And Sirak after him. Bane thought he was it, when he destroyed the Brotherhood of Darkness and installed the Rule of Two, and Plagueis thought _he_ was it, for some reason... What makes you think your... _Boy_ is the one that will lead the Sith into a new age?"

Nothing, actually. He doesn't even care about that Sith'ari thing. The Dark Side is just a mean to an end, not the end itself. He just want to make Dooku believe that's the reason why he wants to bring Anakin in.

“His power... I've never seen something like that. Only a few weeks ago..." he starts, allowing the marvel he feels at this memory to transpire in his voice. "He woke up a mountain, from systems away."

Dooku's eyebrow shots up.

"It would be quite the amazing feat indeed... If I hadn't heard about you doing the same."

Obi-Wan shakes his head, chuckling softly.

"It wasn't me. It was him, through the Force. And, yes "amazing" is the word."

"Through the Force?"

"We have a bond. A training bond that was never severed. Now... Something else. Thirty Masters united their efforts and didn't manage to break it. That alone should prove to be a great asset once he joins us... But his power and the control I have over it isn't all he can bring to your cause. He's wed to Senator Amidala, who I believe has great chances to be the next Chancellor. How do you think the people will react when her husband shows up alongside me?"

"And you trust that he will chose _you_ over his own wife?"

"Yes." 

"Mhm. We'll see about that. I have to admit, even though the idea of killing Amidala's career after all she has done to ruin our plans is appealing... I was much more interested in your army."

"My army?" Obi-Wan repeats, feigning innocence though he knows perfectly that Dooku knows. He's just fun to rile up. 

"Your Clone Army, yes," the Count says in a deadened tone, not taking the bait, to Obi-Wan's disappointment. "What, did you think I'd let you you keep it for yourself?"

"To be perfectly honest, yes. I thought we could just... Carry on with your Master's plan. Slightly modified to work with our current situation of course."

Dooku raise an eyebrow, clearly dubious. 

"He told you of his plan, really? And what do you think we should do, now?"

"We publicly parlay. You admit having been deceived by the Separatists leaders - which I killed, by the way. You're welcome for that too, I've heard they were becoming... troublesome. Impatient."

"I would have dealt with them in the right time."

"But now you don't have to. You can tell that their untimely death - at the hand of a mysterious assassin... Such as the charming Nightsister you've got waiting outside... You can say it uncovered some less than honorable plot... Corruption, slavery in Republic space, take your pick. Something our dear Chancellor was a part of, of course. Then you seek me out, as the misunderstood hero of the Republic. Together we beat the Separatists. And in only the span of a few months... A new order will rise."

"With you at its head I suppose? You think I will bow to you? You have nothing except fire power."

"I still have the people's love. The great Negotiator... I think I'm even more popular than you!"

"You killed the Chancellor," Dooku says flatly.

"Who was already believed to be corrupt by many... But that's not the point. I said that I wanted to be your apprentice. Because I respect your... seniority. And your experience. I'll leave you the politics, as I believe you're best suited for them. I just wish to be your General." 

"So you only wish _to serve_... There is still much of the Jedi in you, Obi-Wan Kenobi." 

The Count stands up, brushing imaginary dust from his pants as he does so, then plants himself in front of Obi-Wan.

"So be it. You'll serve. I can still kill you if you ever prove unworthy."

Obi-Wan stands up too, and both men look at each other one last time as enemies... Or so it appears.

"Kneel."

Obi-Wan keeps standing for a few more seconds, every cell in his body protesting at the order. Obi-Wan Kenobi doesn't kneel. Not for that old man who was so eager to serve such a vile creature as Darth Sidious, at least. He might make an exception for Anakin, though, is even looking forward to it...

He shakes the idea of blowing off Anakin out of his mind - _this is so not the moment-_ and get down on one knee under Dooku's hard stare.

"Do you pledge yourself to my teachings?"

"I do."

_If you have anything worthy to teach me, old man._

"Do you swear to obey and endure?"

"I do."

_For as long as it takes for me to reach my goal._

"Do you forsake the Order that let us down and submit yourself to the Sith law?" 

"I do."

_There is no law. Only power._

"Then from now on, you shall be known as... Darth Melior."

_Sounds good to me. But how can it sound good to you? Do you wish me to be better than the Jedi? Better than the one you refuse to take as your own apprentice? Better than my current self? Because I won't stop there. I will best you. You'll regret taking me as your apprentice and giving me that name._

"Rise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Melior" means "better" in latin. I did a brainstorming session on discord and Spookyrumba found that one :)


	16. Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan goes on space!tumblr and Anakin keeps on being a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *descends from the heavens* THERE YOU GO! 10k!

Obi-Wan seeks out Ventress that evening, finding her practicing her forms in the gardens and though she's defiant at first, she becomes eager to listen as he exposes his plan to her. She protests when she hears she doesn't get the kill, but settles down again when he expalain how it'll went down. She'll settle for humiliation, she says, and she's smiling when he leaves her, a feral smile that he has often seen on the battlefield, and that speaks of the joy of destruction, and he smiles too as he walks away.

He wonders what she plans to do when they're done with Tyrannus. Maybe she'll be interested in joining Anakin and him. He could use someone of her talents against the Order.

The next days are spent planning, catching up Obi-Wan on the Confederacy's inner workings and on lightsaber practice, of course, either with Ventress or Tyrannus. They eat together, all three of them, in a heavy silence that speaks of enmities bigger than luxurious food and glasses of fancy alcohol can breach.

During one of those meals, Obi-Wan wonders briefly what Dooku can be thinking of Ventress's acceptance of his presence, but when the Count just goes on ignoring them both, he shrugs and goes on eating his lobster bisellian. 

For the few hours a day he's not busy with them, Obi-Wan stays in the quarters he's been given, either pouring over ancient Sith texts or checking the Holonet for news of Anakin.

It's easy enough keeping tabs on the young man. The return of the Hero With No Fear on the battlefield is all the Holonet is talking about, especially with is now revealed to be wife in the race for the Chancellery and, well, with his relationship with Obi-Wan himself.

He had never been very interested in what the public thought of him but now he reads with fascination threads after threads of heated debate about whether he's dangerous for the Republic, or is good enough of a General to be reinstated anyway. The public opinion is divided, as he expected.

But Anakin is loved through the Galaxy. The people see in him the perfect hero, which Obi-Wan finds satisfying, amusing and flattering all at the same time. Satisfying because yes, Anakin _is_ fucking perfect. Amusing because he _isn't_ , at least not in a way most people would agree with, even though they _should_. And flattering, because, well, what Anakin is today, he owes a lot to Obi-Wan. Not all of it, obviously, the kid actually had a personality when he came to the Temple. And certainly not as much as Obi-Wan would have wanted a few years ago, when they would clash and fight over what Anakin should do and be as a Jedi. But in the end Obi-Wan is glad Anakin resisted him then, because now all he would have would be another Code spouting puppet, instead of the gorgeous mess of a man he has become, who captured the heart of the Galaxy just as well as his own.

And the enamored Galaxy is rather pissed off, right now. Either because of jealousy - and oh, how Obi-Wan gets them, those admirers and groupies, even though he also despise them because none of them should even dream about this. They are nothing and _he_ 's the only one who deserves any of Anakin - or revolt that Amidala could even think about selling her own husband out. Some of them are adamant that Anakin could have taken him out if she had really done so, while others are more in favor of him and Anakin teaming up once more to go kick some Separatist ass.

The most important is that Amidala suddenly doesn't look like as appealing a candidate, and Obi-Wan is gloating before his terminal. Her detractors are now describing her as cold and manipulative and contemptuous, on top of idealist and juvenile. And the obstinate silence of the Order over political matters doesn't help her case, especially when Master Yoda is seen exiting her office one morning - and, Force, that one really pisses Obi-Wan off. They're supposed to be _neutral_ , not selling out or choosing a puppet on their own. That Anakin has refused to make any declaration on his own doesn't either, though Obi-Wan doesn't know if his apprentice is just extending the Jedi policy to himself because they told him too or because he wants to protect her by avoiding putting his foot in his mouth. Anyway he hasn't said a word about Obi-Wan either, either to the media or to the Order, if their inactivity is of any indication.

 _Is it loyalty, or hope_ , he wonders. Then he realize it doesn't matter, because whatever the nature of the feeling, it's attachment. And attachment is one of the way to the Dark Side.

  

* * *

 

Silence, finally.

The battlefield is empty. All the battlefields are empty, except for corpses and scattered droid parts, and the occasional scavenger. It's a relief for Anakin. Finally people have stopped dying all around him, the Separatist forces reduced to about a thousand droids near Christophsis's equator. They'll attack at dawn, and then he and Ahsoka will depart for Mon Gazza. The planet, until recently controlled by the Spice Mining Guild, has been claimed by the Separatists while Anakin was away. It's not even a matter of giving it back to the Guild, but a Senate commandeered job. It's politics and economics, and Anakin isn't looking forward to it at all.

But for now he's just enjoying the respite. The planetary shield has been deployed this morning, effectively trapping the rest of the Sepies planetside, and the night sky has a bluer tint than usual, the stars shining with a turquoise light.

He's standing on a boulder overlooking one extremity of their camp, munching on a tasteless nutrition bar. They've left behind the most civilized parts of Christophsis behind as the remnants of the Confederacy's units were retreating into the wilds. The men are preparing for the last assault, checking and repairing starfighters and cleaning up blasters and catching some well deserved rest. Most of them are good fighters - those who weren't are already dead - but it doesn't keep Anakin from missing his battalion, and he hopes wherever Obi-Wan has taken them, they're getting some respite from the fights.

They probably are, actually, given that no one has heard the faintest whisper of the Open Circle since the Vanishing. Unless Obi-Wan is using them for some covert operations, the armada is sitting out any kind of war for now, either on Korriban or on some equally deserted world.

Anakin doesn't like it one bit. It sets him on edge, not knowing what Obi-Wan has in mind for the army. It isn't about the Order, because if he understands what happened that day correctly, the fallen Jedi only decided to go against the Masters after they tried to destroy their bond. And he doesn't believe what the leaked recording of his meeting with Padmé says, that he only wants to go on with the war and his former rank.

"You'll have to cut him from the Force," Ahsoka says from behind him, tearing him away from his thoughts. He swallows the last bite of his ration and turns to her. She's standing on the door step of the tent they're using as command center for the evening, and he joins her inside, sitting on the low bunk he claimed as his, bending to take off his boots. He needs to get some sleep before tomorrow's attack. "We think he sensed the snipers the last time so..."

Anakin stops in mid gesture, fingers caught in his boot's strap. Slowly, he looks up and, just as slowly, he asks:

"The what?"

She freezes, and mouths out a curse. Oh, he has a bad feeling about this.

"What snipers?" he insists. 

Ahsoka looks down at her feet, and he can tell from the way she's balancing her weight that she's extremely uncomfortable right now. 

"Those that were at Monument Plaza..."

And he thought that day had been bad enough.

He tightens his straps again - maybe it's weird, but he doesn't want to have this conversation in his socks - and straightens up, jaw clenched and shoulders squared. He's feeling anger rise in him, but he tries to be as calm as possible when he asks:

“You tried to _kill_ him?!”

_I should have been there._

Ahsoka straightens in turn, mirroring his posture in defiance.

“It’s what we do. We fight Sith. We _kill_ Sith.”

“He’s not…”

But he can’t finish this sentence. Because Obi-Wan _is_ a Sith. He’s proved it when he used _their_ magic in _their_ Temple after painting _their_ scripture all over his body in the blood of the Republic's soldiers. 

“How could you do that to _him_ ,” he says instead, because he might be a Sith, but he’s also their Master, and their friend. Anakin, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, they're what a Jedi can have that's closest to an actual family. And she doesn't even want to _try_ to save him?

“It wasn’t my idea."

“But you _knew_. And you did _nothing_.” He doesn't even have to ask about it. It's clear that she hasn't. "Who's idea was it?" She looks away stubbornly. "Tell me, Ahsoka!"

"You don't want to know that."

"Yes I do! So now _you fucking tell me!_ "

She startles at his shout, looking at him with wide eyes. Then her mouth takes a bitter shape, and she finally admits:

"It was Padmé's. And... Master Yoda agreed."

While he feels sick just as the thought that both his wife and the Grand Master have judged Obi-Wan too far gone, and enough of a threat to send _snipers_ after, it does explain a lot. He had been wondering how the Senate and the Order could have let that meeting happen, and here's the answer.

Even though the Council had decided to not pursue the fallen Jedi once his trail had went cold - at least for someone who didn't knew him as much as Anakin - they hadn't hesitated declaring him their enemy, and arresting him when they had finally arrived at the Senate - too late, but at least _they_ had went, unlike Anakin, who'd let himself be persuaded to stay at home and wait it out, whatever "it" was.

They still would have an army if they had killed Obi-Wan on sight, rather than keeping him alive and thus giving him the occasion to escape, less than twenty-four hours later. 

He tries to imagine what he would have done if they _had_  or if the snipers had done their jobs, but just thinking about it only increase his nausea.

"Was I sent away _on purpose_?" he asks with a shaky voice. 

Ahsoka's face says it all.

"You didn't want me to save him... Or was that Padmé's idea, too?"

"It was Padmé... And I."

Something explodes, Anakin isn't sure what though it must be mechanical, because there is a lot of little metal parts flying around. 

"Dammit Ahsoka!" he shouts.

Ahsoka takes a step back , and then another, toward the door, and her hand flies to her lightsaber, tho she doesn't take it off her belt.

He's so mad at her right now. For working against him. For keeping it a secret for three weeks. For making him feel guilty, with the way she's so clearly afraid right now. 

And he doesn't want to be angry at her. Doesn't want to scare her, or to hurt her. But there is this rage inside of him, and if he stays inside for a minute more he's sure he's going to lose what little control he has over his emotions, so he storms out of the shelter, and walks to his starfighter. He hasn't flied it for months, not even on this campaign. But tomorrow's attack will be airborne

He looks dumbly at the astromech filling the space usually reserved to a white and blue R2 unit. _What the fuck is that?_   Where is his droid? 

Then he remembers, and feels like an asshole. He has sent Artoo to Padmé months ago, and didn't even thought about checking on him, much less getting him back, during his two brief visits on Coruscant.

 _Forgetting my own droid, twice_ , he thinks as he gets inside the starfighter, settling in his seat like in the most uncomfortable cocoon - physical comfort isn't the kind he's seeking right now anyway. _Can I be any more of a fuck up?_

An hour later, he's still sitting in his starfighter, brooding, and the sun is still not rising. But he suddenly feels like flying. Like speeding through clouds and rain. Like taunting those who crawl on the ground, like denying gravity and spinning away from wingless threats.

He feels like doing something stupid.

A grim smile flourishes on his lips as he think about Obi-Wan last order to him.  _"Don't get killed,"_ he'd said. _Well, we'll see about that._

 

* * *

 

Anakin takes down half of the remaining Separatist droids before he crashes. 

It's the astromech's fault, he knows it. Or rather, Industrial Automaton and their shitty R5 line and whoever decided to put the defunct droid into his starfighter.

He's making a low swipe over the droid unit when, coming out of nowhere - _seriously_ , Anakin thinks, _where did they hide_ that? - a tank makes it way into the fray., and takes a shot at him, hitting him on the right wing. Not a big deal, he's still airborne, he's just not flying as straight as he would want. He just have to wait for his astromech to repair the damages. Except... The R5 never gets out of his casing, staying stubbornly put, like only a droid of that disaster of a line can.

And that's how Anakin takes threes more hits, and falls into a lake.

The shock as he hits the water is not enough to make him lose consciousness, but it's a near miss, and he still feels dizzy as the starfighter sinks into the waters. A series of cracks make him look up groggily to the windshield, only to discover a long fissure in the transparisteel. 

And it's getting longer.

He extends a hand toward the glass, and reaches to the Force, willing for the transparisteel to hold, for the water to keep away, for the air to stay in.

But what flows out of him instead is a destructive wave. It blows the whole windshield up, and the water above, as if a bomb as been thrown in, and for an instant, he can see clouds, and a lone starfighter speeding through the sky.

And then water floods in.

Anakin doesn't know how to swim, has never learned, even though he should have once he'd gotten to the Temple. But he had never seen a body of water profound enough for a man to drown in before leaving Tatooine and the idea of it had terrified him for a long time. Obi-Wan hadn't pushed, though now Anakin wishes he had.

He's running out of air, and he can't find the ground, nor the surface. He's starting to panic, and so he reaches out. Through the bond he shares with Obi-Wan, and to the one that links him to Ahsoka. He only gets a sleepy caress from his Master, and that calms him a little bit, but it doesn't help at all with his ready to give out lungs. 

But Ahsoka's here. 

He's hauled out of the water by a pair of thin but strong arms, chocking and spiting what feels like the entirety of the lake his starfighter has fallen into. 

Once she's certain he's able to breath on his own, Ahsoka walks to her own fighter, where she gets out her comm to bark orders to their forces. Around them the last Separatist units are being put down. Quickly, efficiently. It's not a battle anymore, it's an execution. But Anakin doesn't feel any satisfaction at seeing the droids be destroyed. It's just like watching leaves fall from a tree. No pain, no feelings. Sometimes he wishes the Separatists would actually fight their battles. Right now he's missing having a real enemy, instead of just his own troops dying.

_Even Grievous would be welcome._

Soon the new camp is setting down around them. In a few hours the troop transports will come in to get them. Anakin hopes they're getting a destroyer this time. He's quite missing the level of comfort the giants are providing. Too bad Obi-Wan took most of them when he stole their Clones. 

He should get one, he thinks. He's the Hero Without Fear, after all - though now he's beginning to think that it's not such a compliment - one of the most prominent General of the Grand Army of the Republic - well, not that grand anymore, but still - and the ships bear his symbol, for Force's sake - well, his and Obi-Wan's... Alright maybe he doesn't actually deserves a nice ship, but he would appreciate it, that's for sure.

"Why didn't you wait?"

Anakin looks up from from the patch of ground he's been staring at since the combats have winded down, finding Ahsoka staring him down, hands on her hips and a frown on her face. He's been sitting in the sun, drying and doing nothing useful, thinking about ships and comfortable bunks, and a warm body to share it with... 

He shrugs.

"Didn't felt like it."

"You _didn't felt like it_? Skyguy there's a reason we make plans! Granted, they don't always work out but this should have, and if you'd only followed it, you wouldn't have..."

She stops as he stands up, now towering over her and spits out, his voice venomous.

"Go on Ahsoka, speak up your mind." But she stays mute. "What, you think a few months of running this shitshow of a war have made you the Master, that's it? I'm starting to get real tired of you acting like you got it all figured out. You don't. So stop telling me what I should do or don't do."

That seems to wake her up.

"Well if you stopped acting like a sculag with a death wish I would stop telling you what to do! Force dammit Skyguy, you're only a shadow of yourself, and I'm not only talking about your spirit! Did Obi-Wan run away with your brains or what?!"

In the end she's screaming in his face, and somewhere deep inside Anakin's there's he knowledge that they can't be further away that two Jedi Generals right now, and that they're in hearing distance of their men, but hell if he cares, he's pissed off and he's tired, and so he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

"Damn well he did!"

 _Wait_. Anakin frowns, no that wasn't... _Well it's actually pretty accurate._

Ahsoka's brow line shots up, and then she starts to snicker.

"Yeah, I think he really did."

He can't help but chuckle with her. And suddenly all the tension between them is gone. It doesn't erase anything that's been said, but... Well, they're both tired. Of their fight and of fighting. Anakin sits back down and Ahsoka joins him on the ground.

"You're right, this was a stupid thing to do. Thank you for getting me out of there."

"You're welcome, Master." They sit in silence for a while, then Ashoka says, her voice uncharacteristically timid: "So, I had an idea."

"About what?"

"Remember how I said you should cut him from the Force? Well there's that spice I've learned about... I think it would do the trick."

"A spice? Why haven't I heard of it? Why did nobody used it on the Jedi? It seems like an awfully useful substance..."

"Well I'm pretty sure only the Order is aware of this particular side-effect. After all, you need to be Force sensitive to discover it, and Jedi aren't usually rushing to get hooked on drugs. And I don't know why you don't know about it. I've learned it at the Temple."

Anakin then remembers how she had enunciated the properties of Ambrostine as if learned by heart.

"Wow, Snips, you've actually done your homework! Didn't thought you had it in you!"

But it seems that, even though she can be as hot headed as Anakin, she has also modeled herself after Obi-Wan, and far more than he thought. 

"Well I had to run this show almost all by myself for those past months, you know. No Obi-Wan to give me insights on a situation, no you for blowing stuff up..." 

"Hey! I can do many other things, you know!"

She grins at him, then shrugs.

"I had to learn."

From there on the conversation deviates on their next mission, and what they know of Mon Gazza, and how to find that particular brand of spice on a planet whose sole business is the production of drugs. They don't come to any conclusive plan, but at least they're not fighting anymore, and Anakin finally has some sort of strategy concerning Obi-Wan.

As he go to get some rest - finally - before their ride arrives, he ponders over what she has said the other day, and not for the first time. _"Give him what he wants."_

_Easier said than done, Snips._

Or maybe... Maybe it would be _too_ easy, to give in, to do what he thinks Obi-Wan wants from him. Easy and _wrong_.

Padmé’s voice echoes in his head.

_“He’s in love with you.”_

And the thing is... He wants to be believe it. So badly it hurts.

That’s why it’s so dangerous.  

It will be his last resort, he decides. If Obi-Wan doesn't listen to him when they get reunited. If he sees he's about to get away or will not be swayed. Then he'll give him what he wants - or what Anakin suspects he wants - and he'll slip him the spice. He'll lock him up, and keep him locked up for as long as he needs to bring him back.

 

* * *

 

There is an itch inside Obi-Wan. A need to leave this too pleasant planet, to get into a ship and go back to war. A call for blood and mayhem,for fire and chaos.

He envies Anakin right now. He's out there on the battlefield while Obi-Wan is between closed walls, trying is best to be polite and to appear docile and deferential. Dooku thirsts for respect, for the recognition he didn't get as a Jedi, for the appreciation he's not getting now as the leader of the Confederacy. The Separatist don't know enough about the Force to measure the true value of his knowledge and power, thinking of him as just another politician with some strange ways and capacities. He likes to talk his apprentices ears off about the Dark Side, though Obi-Wan cannot find much in his discourse that he hasn't already learned for the holocron he stole on Baskara or from the ghosts of the ancient Sith in Korriban's crypts.

There is nowhere else to release his frustration and pent up blood-lust than in mock duels, the clash of dulled plasma blades giving him the illusion of a true fight for barely long enough that he can forget he can't kill. So he trains and trains. With Ventress, and with Tyrannus. And it doesn't make the itch go away, but it allows him to focus on something else, for a little while.

Dooku is a master swordsman, one of the last practitioners of Makashi and, at first, Obi-Wan struggles to follow, even though he was one of the best fighters the Order had to offer. They've fought one another before, and with the intention to kill, but he's never got the edge on him, even with Anakin at his side.

But as the days pass, it's almost like his movement are slowing down, whereas Obi-Wan is a firestorm that's only taking up speed. Almost like the Force is balancing itself between them, finding Obi-Wan a better champion for the Dark Side's cause.

Until, for the first time, Obi-Wan has absolute confidence that he could beat him without breaking a sweat. He stops himself at the last moment, allowing the old man to think he has won this round too. He doesn't want the man to grow fearful of him and decide to assassinate him in his sleep or something, but this victory being only virtual doesn't spoil the idea that he has finally beat him.

Perfidy is just another strategy in war, and if he has to resolve to schemes and tricks to get what he wants, so be it.

And what he wants today, is learning how to hide the darkness.

But to his horror, the key to turning his eyes to their natural color is... Meditating.

"You need to regain control," Dooku is sermonizing him the afternoon that follows. Obi-Wan is sitting cross-legged on he floor of the space they use for training, his so called Master circling around him like an overgrown carrion bird. "You've let the Dark Side submerge you. You're letting your emotions lead you when you should be using them."

Obi-Wan closes his eyes again, blowing through his nose to let out the anger that rises in him at the idea that he's doing this whole Dark Side thing wrong somehow, when all indicates that he's succeeding. Well, all but his inability to turn his damned eyes blue again. 

"I _have_ control."

He has been lying to Dooku to his face for days now, ignoring the feeling in his guts that tells him to cut the old man to pieces. Would a man controlled by his emotions be able to refrain from killing his enemy when he has them in front of him?

He's been denying the itch after all. Has been ignoring that what feels more and more like black hole inside of him, a black hole just like the one that fed his ritual on Korriban. That tells him to use the Clones instead of having sitting there doing _nothing_. That tells him to take what's rightfully his. 

But there are also moment when the buried Jedi in him resurfaces, and he asks himself if he really has a right to any of it. Then he remembers how he's been betrayed, how his prize, his perfectly flawed boy has been stolen from him when he wasn't looking, too busy doing the will of the Council, chasing the scent of that same army he's denying himself the use of today.

"No you don't. I can't feel it from a mile away..." Dooku says, with nose crunching in disdain. "And I'm getting tired of all this pining you've been up to. Get a hold over yourself Melior, or you don't deserves neither your title nor your name."

Obi-Wan's eyes snap open, wide as he stares at Dooku and the Count looks back at him with a disgusted face.

"What, you're going to serve me the "no attachment" spiel?" he says defensively. "You're the one who has still too much of the Jedi in him, Tyrannus."

He gets a blow on the back for that. Dooku's lightsaber, set to low power, still burns him through his thin shirt, but he grits his teeth and not a sound escapes his lips. He's learned the bite of training lightsabers long ago. This is nothing. 

"Don't think that because things are done differently among the Sith that you get a pass for disrespect, Melior. You're the disciple here, and it's not because you allowed Skywalker to walk all over you that I'll do the same." There's a moment of silence, only broken by the sound of Dooku's steps. Then a dry, joyless laugh. "It's him, isn't it? You're lusting after your own Padawan! What a disgrace you are... It's no surprise now that you bailed on the Order... You couldn't stand the idea of not being that perfect Jedi you thought you were, is that it? Or did you find out about his liaison with the Naboo bitch?" 

Obi-Wan's jaw clenches at the mention of Naboo and its Senator, and Tyrannus's laugh echoes one last time around him before the sound of his step faint as the Count leaves the room throwing a last menace behind him for good measure:

"But be careful. You don't want that attachment used against you, do you?" 

 

* * *

 

Three more weeks pass before the routine of the fights is broken again.

They've stopped on Devaron to drop a passenger to the local Temple. Not something that they expected to show up in their mission orders, but the boy is Force-sensitive who's only just been found by the Order. Three weeks ago, says the report, by a Knight on his way to the Outer Rim. He's too old to be taught, and will never be a Jedi. But he can still serve the Order, the Masters have decided. And he will do it by becoming the Keeper of the Eedit Temple. His predecessor has been killed a few months prior, something that Anakin decides to tell him as soon as they've landed. But the kid just squares up and sets his bag on the stone floor, before telling him he's been living in a war zone for years now.

While they eat that evening, Anakin looks at the kid, wondering what would have been his fate if Qui-Gon hadn't found him when he was nine. Would his mother still be alive if he had stayed on Tatooine with her? Or would he have been found, later, and sent to such a Temple... To Jedha maybe. Or to the Agricorps. Would Padmé have married someone else? Maybe she should have, given how it turned out on his end. And what about Obi-Wan? Would he have been saddled with another Padawan? Would he still have fallen?

He doesn't even know what answer he would prefer at this point. On one hand, it seems egoistic to think that he can have such an influence on someone, and it brings out a decent amount of guilt, too. On the other... 

 _Don't go there again_ , he tells himself. But it's harder and harder to ignore it, especially with the lull of Obi-Wan's Force presence in the back of his head. And he catch himself staring at the fire of the Temple's braziers, fantasizing about what the things that could make a man fall from the Light in his name.

Disgusted with himself, Anakin puts down his food - rations again, anyway, nothing very interesting, and goes to bed.

It takes him some time to fall asleep. Anakin feels ill at ease in the Temple, a sensation reminiscent of what he has felt in the caves on Ilum, though much dimer. But even the lesser intensity of it doesn't reassure him much. He feels tainted, and guilty at the idea of bringing a corrupted crystal - and a corrupted soul - into the place.

He also wonders why it didn't felt that way in Coruscant's Temple. Maybe it's because he's too attuned to the place, that even the Dark Side can't make him feel unwelcome there.

That night he dreams of fire in Eedit's halls.

 

* * *

 

"There was an assassination attempt," Ahsoka whispers as she shakes him awake.

Anakin yawns. Can't they all take a break from the murderous plots? He needs his beauty sleep, dammit!

"On who?" he mumbles.

"Padmé."

"Really?" Anakin chuckles, rearranging his covers around himself. _Force, is that Temple drafty_. "They should know it never takes."

Ahsoka's look of alarm makes him look around in confusion. Are they being attacked? He can't sense nor see anything.

"What?"

"You're not... I don't know, worried?"

He shrugs.

"She's fine, isn't she?"

Honestly, he doesn't care. He's still reeling from Ahsoka's revelation about what really went down on Monument Plaza - or what was _supposed_ to go down, and how two of the people he'd loved the most had decided to sideline him so they could get rid of the third without him knowing. 

"Yes, she is. But don't you want to know who did it? Shouldn't we investigate and arrest them before they try again?"

He's about to tell her that Coruscant's police can take care of that, or a Jedi with less on his plate than Anakin.

But Ahsoka is looking at him in such a way that he can't bring himself to say it. _Fuck, she knows we're married_ , he remembers. _Actually, everyone knows we're married, but Ahsoka_ knows _, like really,_ his still sleepy mind reminds him. She'd knew even before the leak. And she knows that Anakin would normally already be on his way to the Core.

_Should I tell her about the Judgment Circle?_

He doesn't want to... And he _can't,_ actually. Because then she would ask why the Masters didn't do this for him and Obi-Wan. And though he trusts her more than anyone else right now, he also knows that she would think she's helping him by warning the Masters about their failure.

_Shit, I have to go don't I?_

They're close enough to the Core now that it would take less than forty eight hours to get there. But... Should he really abandon the battlefield for so little, when Padmé is alright and everyone knows about them?

It's maybe stupid but what does it is R2D2. Anakin is getting tired of those second rate droids he keeps being supplemented with. They keep fucking up and fucking up his flights. And they're not nearly as funny.

He wants his buddy back.

"Alright, let's go."

 

* * *

 

"Anakin?! I didn't know you were coming home! What..."

"I don't have much time," he interrupts her. "What happened?"

Padmé takes a step toward him but he simply crosses his arms, putting on a stern face. He doesn't want her near him. She wants Obi-Wan dead, and with his love for her gone... He can't get over it. He's only here as a Jedi. And because he doesn't want Ahsoka to get curious. And to get Artoo back.

_Don't forget him this time._

"Are you alright, Ani?"

She looks so dismayed, he almost feels bad for her. Almost. 

 _You wanted to kill my Master, you deserve more than me just being_ cold.

But he forces himself to placate a a smile on his face - not too big, he's supposed to be worried after all - and says:

"Yes, I'm fine. But what about you... angel?"

Both Ahsoka and Padmé look weirded out, though he can imagine not for the same reasons. 

" _Uh..._ More fear than harm. I woke up with Asajj Ventress standing over me, her lightsabers ignited... I think she was there on Obi-Wan's orders."

Anakin has to breath deeply in order to not lash at her - his mind hesitating between _"oh so now that he's a Sith he wants to kill everyone, that's it?"_ and _"well I would want to assassinate you too if you had set_ snipers _on me!"_ \- and manages to ask calmly:

"And what makes you think it was him?"

Not calmly enough apparently, because she cross her arms defiantly, mirroring his own pose, and replies with a raised - and perfectly drawn - eyebrow:

"She left something behind."

She leads them through the apartment and to her bedroom. _Our bedroom_ , Anakin reminds himself, but it doesn't seem right anymore. The place just feels like a room he's never been in before, even though he can recall lazy mornings and passionate nights spend between the sheets of the bed. But it could just as well be from some holodrama he would have seen a long time ago.

What doesn't leave him indifferent, though, is the scorched expense of wall just above said bed.

It's like a kick to the stomach.

"This wasn't an assassination attempt," he murmurs as he trails naked fingers over the symbol burnt into the wall and getting them back stained with black. It has been made with a lightsaber. "If she was standing just there, she could have killed you instead of taking her time to do this."

"I thought that meant you were the target," she says, clearly confused by that switch from "he's going to leave you for me" to "promise of certain death". 

He laughs at that, earning himself concerned looks from Padmé and Ahsoka.

No, that's a signature, not a warning. It _does_ mean Ventress came here on Obi-Wan's orders. Because he has found the Count, and apparently got the assassin under his thumb.

"Maybe," he says, "or maybe she thought your room needed some redecorating..." 

"Anakin..." Padmé starts, clearly not amused.

But she's interrupted by her comm going off, followed almost immediately by Anakin's, and Ahsoka's.

They all look at the others, and Anakin signal at Padmé to accept her call.

"Padmé", we have a situation at the Senate..."

Anakin recognize Bail Organa's voice.

"This is General Skywalker, Senator Organa. Speak up."

"Oh, great! You'll need to hear that too! Mas Amedda has agreed to a meeting with Count Dooku and General Kenobi. We've been asked to empty the Senate Building why they're here but..."

Anakin's heart misses a beat.

"When."

"Now."

_Obi-Wan's here?_

It's embarrassing, really, how how just hearing that makes him react. Like a dog who's master has just come home. He wants to slap himself for that, but all he can do is grit his teeth and ask for more information.

"We don't know what they want, yet. Some sort of accord, maybe? Anyway, they've asked for you."

"What?" Padmé exclaim. "For me?"

"No, Padmé. The Chancellor has asked for the General. It has been relayed to the Order, but it was asked in a public declaration, before they chased us from the Senate."

"Alright," Anakin says, making for the door. 

"You're going?" Ahsoka asks, and he almost rolls his eyes at her surprise. As she not payed attention? Did she thought those plan they have made where only hypothetical?

Anakin thumbs the small vial he's been keeping in his pocket for two weeks. Well, he hopes part of it _will_ stay hypothetical.

"You heard it, the Chancellor asked for me."

He gives a last glance to the Open Circle burnt over his wife's bed and then he leaves the room. He's going to find his other half.

 

* * *

 

The Senate is silent as a tomb.

It sets Anakin on edge. This isn’t normal. The building is usually bustling with activity, but right now there isn’t even a cleaning droid to be seen.

"Wait here, buddy," he says to R2D2. Anakin has found his droid on standby mode in one of the many rooms of Padmé's apartment. He'd been torn between the need to protest this treatment of his robotic friend and admitting that it was probably safer that way, given that he had a tendency to store any kind of sensible information in his memory. In the end, he had just reactivated him and left. There was no time for another discussion with Padmé.

The droid beeps forlornly but stays in the main hallway.

On whim, Anakin goes to the Senate Chamber. He hasn't set a foot there since before Obi-Wan fell, hadn't had the occasion. No he feels the urge to see it, he doesn't really know why. 

But there's no physical trace left of that day, and Anakin is weirdly disappointed. What was he expecting, anyway? Some golden plate saying: "Here Obi-Wan Kenobi went nuts and dismembered a whole bunch of people"?

He walks up the length of one of the balconies reserved for observers. He has spent many hours perched on one of those, looking down on the crowd of politicians as Padmé or Palpatine or Bail Organa were speaking. He hadn't felt exactly comfortable here, but it was a familiar place nonetheless. But now... He closes his eyes, trying to put a name on the feeling. No physical trace doesn't mean no trace in the Force, and there's something here, something that's familiar too, but in a different way.

He opens his eyes and there’s the flash of another day overprinted above Anakin’s vision of the repulsorpod lined pit, and there are scorch marks spreading under the hand that rest on the handrail before him and when he looks up he sees bodies, burnt and torn apart.

He has to catch himself to the handrail so as to not end up face down on the floor - this falling over is starting to become an annoying habit, by the way - and as he looks down onto the repulsorpod just underneath his vantage point, there is a prostrated form. He can't see who it is in the darkness that fills up the Senate like a fog, but it's shaking and murmuring, again and again:

_"This can't be happening."_

Anakin shifts on his feet, making the softest of sound on the carpeted floor but in the vast, empty space, it's loud enough that the creature that isn't really there hears it, and looks up at him.

Its eyes are yellow.

Anakin staggers back, and the world around him shifts back to the present time.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaims, not expecting an answer from anyone or anything, but damn answers would be nice to have!

This has never happened to him before, doesn’t belong to the array of his Force abilities. He isn't retrocognitive, like Quinlan Vos was. 

He breathes deeply, chasing the strange event of his mind to think on it later, and focuses on Obi-Wan's Force presence, letting it stir him through the building until he arrives in front of an open door. 

He isn't sure what this room is used for usually, but today it looks like a Sith Lord's living room. It's plunged in shadows, with only faint blue lights allowing him to see anything at all, and there are numerous tables and seats strewn around a central conference table. There is a throne-like chair on a low stage, probably reserved for the Chancellor should he use the room, upon which Mas Amedda is passed out. Ventress is lounging on a sofa in a corner, as if she couldn't care less about what's going on. 

And then there's Obi-Wan, walking up and down the room nervously, muttering to himself.

“You’re here. You’re really here.”

He had known it from the moment he'd set foot inside the Senate Building, but feeling Obi-Wan through the Force and seeing him are different things. Their bond is a constant thing, but the knowledge of his physical presence... it's like a weight has been lifted for Anakin's shoulders.

Obi-Wan stops moving at the sound of Anain's voice. He turns to him, body relaxing instantly, a smile appearing on his face.

“I’m here.”

Anakin can’t help himself. He crosses the space separating them in long, quick strides, and throws his arms around Obi-Wan, his mechanical hand grabing at the back of his shirt and the other one going to the back of his head, fingers spreading into soft hair briefly before falling back onto a muscled shoulder. Their bodies meld together as Obi-Wan puts a hand on the small of his back and Anakin feels like a damned fool as he lets Obi-Wan weave his fingers into his own hair. A fucking idiot that doesn't even feel bad about hugging a man who killed dozens of innocents in that very same building.

But it’s been so long since Baskara already. Since they’ve seen each other in the flesh. And even there there wasn't much time. 

"So... It was you who sent Ventress?"

He can see the assassin smirking at him over Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Yes. I thought her little performance would draw you here. I was right..."

He almost tells him that he wouldn't have come if not for Ahsoka's insistence, but something stops him. Something in their bond. It's like Obi-Wan is probing at him, but with such delicacy and absence of aggression that Anakin thinks he's imagining it at first. But he's been so intent on decoding Obi-Wan's spurs of emotions lately that there is no doubt, in the end. He's waiting for some sort of reaction from Anakin. 

_"He's a jealous maniac."_

Is it what's he's searching for? Some reaction him using Padmé? Well he's a bit annoyed that he thought he had to go to this length to get him here, but...

Does Obi-Wan not know about what the Masters managed to do before he appeared to them? 

Maybe. He only talked about damaging their bond, not damaging Anakin's whole fucking brain. Now would he even care about Anakin's feelings for Padmé being gone? 

He sees it in a flash, how he could use this, even though he hates himself for it. 

Obi-Wan would be proud of him.

Anakin sigh, finally detaching himself from Obi-Wan. Now he doesn't dare to look at him directly, fearing that he might see right through him.

"You know a message would have worked just as well. Or a Force vision maybe. You seem to have mastered that rather easily." Obi-Wan chuckles at that but doesn't say anything, so Anakin goes on. “What took you so long?”

He's aware he sounds like a petulant child, and that's _not_ something he's going for, but he's still mad at Obi-Wan for abandoning him, and mad at himself for feeling abandoned in the first place, when reason dictates that he should be relieved that a Sith doesn't want to spend too much time around him.

“This.”

Anakin stares in confusion at what looks like a pile of dark fabric.

"I... Don't follow."

Obi-Wan shrugs. 

"He'll come around soon."

" _He?_ Who is this?"

"Sith Lord Darth Tyrannus, he likes to call himself."

"Count Dooku? What happened to him?"

"I happened to him. And dear Ventress. We slipped a little something in his wine, so he'd play nice while we talk. But don't worry, he'll be alert enough soon. It be disappointing if he didn't fight back, don't you think?"

"Against whom?" 

"Against you. Remember how I told you I had something just for you? Well this is it. You can have your revenge for what he did to you."

"I won't kill him. An arm doesn't equals a life, Obi-Wan!"

He can't believe he even has to say, this. And that it's him telling that to Obi-Wan.

"If your puppy doesn't take his chance, Melior, I will do it!" Ventress interjects from her corner. She still looks disinterested, though, but Anakin thinks it might just be an act, because she's _checking her fingernails_ , for Force's sake, who actually does that?

"No! I'll bring him to the Order. They'll take care of him."

"It isn't about your arm Anakin! Or even about his crimes as the leader of the Confederacy!"

"Then what is it about?"

"Palpatine talked to me quite a lot before dying. About his plans, past and future. He gloated to me about a great many things. Such as his first try in making you go Dark Side."

Anakin sighs. _Not that again._

"Palpatine wasn't a Sith Lord," he says firmly.

Ventress snickers, and Anakin goes to stare at her, just by principle, but Obi-Wan catches his chin, turning Anakin's face to him. So he just looks away instead, making Obi-Wan sigh in dismay. He still catches the pained expression on his face, and it hurts him in turn, like a blaster shot deflected by a blade.

"You still don't believe me..."

"It doesn't make sense... I would have known... Or the Council..." 

"None of them know the real power of the Dark Side. _You_ don't. Not yet." Anakin is about to protest but before he can, Obi-Wan says: "Let me show you."

He raises a hand, two fingers extended toward Anakin's forehead.

"Please, Anakin."

He considers it for a moment. Why not? He's already bonded to the man, if he wanted to fuck with his thoughts, he'd already did it... Well, he has done it already, though not on purpose, Anakin hopes. It was just the consequences of the Blood Ritual. And it didn't actually made Anakin _do_ anything. No, if Obi-Wan is manipulating him, he's doing it in a way Anakin can't recognize, and he can't do anything about it. So what's a bit more of it, when he knows it's coming? 

He nods, and as Obi-Wan's fingers touch his skin, he's transported back to the Senate Chamber on the day of the Massacre, for the second time in less than an hour.

First come the sounds. Shouts and cries and the buzz of lightsabers and the shocks of heavy blocks of durasteel colliding and the sizzling of electrical wiring that's been cut off.

Then he takes in the chaos that reign in the Chamber. Senators and Representatives are running around like headless bloggins. Repulsorpods are crashing and exploding in the depths of the room, and a Sith is marching on Anakin... No. On Obi-Wan.

It's Palpatine, an ignited, crimson bladed lightsaber in hands. He strikes down as Obi-Wan is searching for his lightsaber, fallen on the ground during their last contact. The Jedi rises his weapon just in time to intercept the Sith Lord's and they're at it again, two unstoppable forces that clash and leave a path of destruction in their wake.

The part of Anakin that isn't absorbed in the moment, in the fight itself and the storm that rages inside of Obi-Wan and tint everything around him with a red veil - that part is baffled by how the Chancellor is moving, how the Force is so clearly present within him, how he looks like an accomplished duelist instead of the harmless old man he has always seen him as.

He's spinning and jumping and giving back blow for blow against Obi-Wan, as if he's done this all his life, instead of seating in meetings and work on speeches. As if he's thirty years younger than he appears, and packing up thirty more pounds of muscles.

_Is that what they call the power of the Dark Side?_

But Obi-Wan is faster. The anger pumping in his veins fuels him with the ardor of a thousand suns, and he jumps higher, and he slashes quicker, and his blows are stronger. In the end, he tears Palpatine's lightsaber away from his hands, sending it free-falling into the shadows that cloak the lowest levels of the Chamber. And Obi-Wan goes for the kill.

Palpatine looks down on the plasma blade piercing his torso, then looks back up at Obi-Wan, and seems to see something there, because he smirks, an horrible thing that would give Anakin goosebumps if he was in his own body, and that makes the rage inside Obi-Wan skyrocket.

_"You have fallen. He'll follow, I can see it now. It was that simple..."_

One last breath, and Sheev Palpatine is dead.

Anakin comes back to himself, his body shaking with the intensity of the vision. He's grasping at Obi-Wan's shirt, and he lets go of it as soon as his eyes open on the present day. Obi-Wan's fingers linger a bit longer on him though, and they trail over his skin as he finally steps back. 

"I should have seen it sooner. Years ago. He's always been interested in you, and by your power. He wanted to make you his thing, and I let him..."

 _Blast you_ , Anakin thinks. He's never heard so much emotion in Obi-Wan's voice, and it kills him, because he doesn't know if any of it is genuine. Will he ever cease to mourn the loss of the certainty he used to be able to find with his Master? He can only hope he can brings it back, and fight for it. He's made a promise, and he can't let himself forget it.

"He sent Count Dooku here to warp the mind of a group of Tusken Raiders a few years ago, convincing them it would be a good idea to take that one moisture farmer from her lands, when they usually don't go that near Anchorhead. And they didn't do anything else. They didn't steal, didn't destroyed. They just took her. And kept her. And starved her and beat her...."

He doesn't want to believe it. He doesn't want to think about it. Hasn't he suffered enough over this? But now he's been sent back four years ago, and his fingers are itching to go grab his lightsaber, this cursed blade that he has learned to use and appreciate - though not as much as his old one - over the last weeks, to plunge it into Dooku's heart. He wishes Palpatine was still here, but for the first time it's not because he wants the man alive and well, able to give council and reassurances. no, what he wants is answers. He wants to get into his mind and dig out the truth from it, and if what Obi-Wan says happened is what's real, then kill him to. Slowly. Painfully.

Obi-Wan steps in front of him, placing his hand on Anakin shoulders and catching the Jedi's eyes with his. Anakin's already ragged breath catches in his throat. Those are blue eyes looking at him - he can see it now that he isn't literally glued to him nor looking away - clear of the Dark Side's influence and full of earnest concern and affection.

"I'm so sorry I didn't helped you back then. That I didn't give credit to your fears. And I know this won't bring her back. But justice will be served, now in it's entirety."

 _A Jedi will not take revenge,_ he has to remind himself. But the respect of the Code has never been his forte, and he's already broke this tenet once, and so his voice is weak as he said:

"No! You wouldn't want me to do that if you were..."

"Stop it, Anakin! I'm right here! I told you: it's only fair!"

His voice is imperious, his eyes are piercing blaster shots, and his hands a heavy weight on Anakin's shoulders. He's pinned to the ground and he can't escape the truth anymore. This is Obi-Wan. This is what he wants, what he knows to be the best for Anakin. And right now, Anakin is inclined to agree that this _is_ the best for him. 

The faint voice that's telling him that he didn't even know about this scheme five minutes, ago, that his mother's murderers have already payed, that he has put his anger and pain concerning her death behind - it disappears, replaced by one absolute certitude:

_She has to be avenged._

"Alright..."

Obi-Wan's smile is blinding and sends Anakin's heart fluttering -  _urgh_ ,  _not the time, Skywalker -_ for a brief instant before his focus go back to the Sith Lord on the ground.

He walks up to Dooku, and kicks him in the ribs.

"Wake up old man."

It's as if a spell has been lifted. Dooku springs to his feet, lightsaber in hand and ignited in a second, and Obi-Wan gets out of the way quickly, hand on his own weapon but not unhooking it from his belt. Anakin does, though, powering on his cursed blade. 

Dooku's shaking on his legs at first, but soon he gets into a battle stance, though he doesn't seem to know who he should attack first, Anakin or Obi-Wan.

The later takes another step backward and, pointing at Anakin, says to the Count: 

"He's your enemy today, _Master_."

In this word and in their bond, Anakin gets feelings and impressions and sensations, all more infuriating than the other. He knows the humiliation of deferring to an enemy, the insult of being talked down by Sidious's lap dog, the blows of his sabers. The thought that Obi-Wan has been submitting himself to this man, even for a short while, even for Anakin's sake, it makes him see red... and his ears echo with the sound a double heart beat.

Their bond ignite with a fire he's never known before, and he fills up with a foreign rage that meets up with his own. It's frustration and fear and blood-lust and self righteousness and pain and jealousy and it's too much. He has to let it out. So he throws himself into the fight.

He doesn't know how many time has passed, how many blows have been exchanged, when he realize he's using Ataru attacks, and staggers. He's never learned this form, though both his Master and his Padawan have used it, and yet it comes to him as if he's been practicing it all his life.

Dooku sees his distraction, of course, and he almost kills Anakin on the spot, only getting blocked at the very last instant.

"You have anger. You have hate. But you don't use them, you just let them use you. You're just a weak and confused little boy..."

Those words make Anakin riposte with renewed rage, this time slipping into the foreign form with ease.  

"You're no Chosen One."

He has known Dooku's opinion of him for a while. Know that he doesn't think him good enough, not clever enough, not sophisticated enough. But he's not going to win this fight with his good manner and a flourish of the saber. He's not afraid of playing dirty, and he's strong enough in the Force to pull it off. 

"And you're surely no Sith'ari."

He doesn't know what that means, and he doesn't care. Taking advantage of a brief respite in their duel, he raises his hand to the ceiling, and when he brings it down, the enormous chandelier - that no one has bothered lighting up because darksiders are a bunch of dramatic fucks - breaks off from its fixture, and falls on the conference table, breaking his glass and exploding in thousands of crystal shards. 

Dooku gets projected backward, or maybe he's propelling himself backward as to evade the worst of the debris, Anakin isn't sure. Anyway, the slides back until he hits the faraway wall. Anakin is upon him in an instant, Force-jumping over the shattered remnants of the chandelier. He brings down his lightsaber on Dooku in a lethal arc, but the Count still manages to block it, at the very last moment, though the groan he lets out as he does it tells Anakin his opponent is starting to tire, and in the red light of their lightsaber, he can see a profound gash made in his forehead by a crystal shard. He knows he has won then.

He doesn't push, doesn't try to force down he Sith's weapon. Instead he disengage, so suddenly and quickly that Dooku is still holding up his blade when Anakin's comes looping around from the side, and cuts off his hands.

Anakin thinks that someone is clapping and laughing - Ventress, probably - but he almost doesn't hear it over the rush of blood in his ears. He extends a hand, calling his opponent's lightsaber to it and, as the Sith Lord falls to his knees with a shout of pain, Anakin cross the pair of sabers beneath his raised chin, stopping himself at the very last moment. He wants to cut of the bastard's head so badly. But killing in cold blood a disarmed enemy isn't the way of the Jedi, so he's left there staring daggers at the old man, wishing he could, wishing he was free of the Code...

"My mother," he says. "Did you cause her death?"

"Wouldn't you want to know, _Jedi,"_ Dooku replies, the last word spat out like a curse.

It's almost as good as a confession... But almost isn't enough, is it?

But Dooku isn't looking at him anymore. His gaze is resting beyond Anakin, and he says:

"He'll be your downfall, Melior. Mark my words. Just as you'll be his. And when you destroy each other, you'll hear me laugh from the grave."

There is he soft sound of steps behind him, and Obi-Wan's voice, a whisper in the shell of his ear - even though Anakin could swear he isn't close enough for that - It's an order and a plea, and Anakin can't resist either. This is the voice that taught him the Code. This is the voice that can erase it.

"Do it."

He does it. A flick of the wrists, and the two crimson blades cross, with the sizzling noise of plasma and the the hissing of boiling blood and cauterizing flesh as the lightsabers go through flesh and arteries and bones and Anakin thinks he ought to be sick from it, but there's only a roaring inside his head, a gleeful clamor at the knowledge that justice has been served, that his mother has been fully avenged, that the insults to his Master have been washed away. Laughter rises from behind him, a sound he hasn't heard for what seems like forever, and Obi-Wan's hand comes down on his neck, hauling him backward as Dooku's head rolls on the floor and his lifeless body falls to the ground. He presses his forehead against the side of Anakin's face, where he carved into his skin months ago.

"Well done."

Anakin switches off the lightsabers, but he can still see he double imprint of the twin red blades over his eyelids as he closes his eyes and leans into the contact, sighing at the reassuring closeness, at the unique sensation of being part of a whole... They're almost in sync, and he knows it should worry him, but he's missed the feeling, and though it isn't perfect - not yet, says the echo in his head - it's still better than nothing.

"Come with me?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next updates might be slower to come up (and probably shorter) because I'm doing a fic for the Obikin Big Bang and also I have an important exam next month (I'm so not prepared, pray for my soul) tho I'm really obsessed with this one so hard emphasis on the "might" :D


	17. Ahsoka Tano: Jedi, Drug Dealer, Pimp.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talking and walking :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for this chapter title but also not.

Anakin departs, his freshly reactivated droid beeping joyously, and Padmé and Ahsoka are left standing in the Senator's room, not looking at each other or at the scorched wall. 

To be honest, Ahsoka is beginning to hate that symbol. It had made her proud, once, to fight under those colors. Thought she'd knew pride wasn't something she was supposed to let herself feel, she had felt it nonetheless. To fight with the two greatest Jedi of her age! To be the Chosen One's Padawan! It had made her feel special. Now it just makes her feel sick. Makes her feel powerless, to see those two men she respects and love drag each other and the world around them into disaster.

Because disaster is coming. She can feel it. And something tells her Padmé can feel it too, even without the Force to show it to her.

"I want to know what's wrong with him, Ahsoka," Padmé says finally, breaking the heavy silence that has fallen on the room as Artoo's ramblings faded away. Ahsoka sighs. Where to even begin? Should she even answer that question? It doesn't seem fair, not with Anakin not being there to defend himself. "You have to tell me. I can't stand it, seeing him like this!"

She knows the feeling. Has been at the front row of her Master's breakdown, both in those first weeks he'd been grounded on Coruscant and in the last month. It had been painful, watching him close off and get _so angry,_ and not only because he has unleashed his temper on her in two occasions.

She can only begin to imagine how it had been for him during those months he'd run off to chase Obi-Wan. Jedi are rarely truly alone, what with being raised among dozens of others children, then being paired up with a Master, and then taking a Padawan of their own, and others after that. She's almost certain that this has been the longest Anakin has spent without either his mother or Obi-Wan or Padmé or Ahsoka herself. _No wonder he looked so bad when he came back._  Force knows he's bad at taking care of himself, proof being how he managed to almost die half a dozen time in a month, even with Ahsoka there.

But she isn't sure she's the best person to talk about all that to Padmé.

"Look... I don't want to hide things from you, Padmé. I really don't. It's just... You should talk to him about it. Not me."

"But he _won't_ talk to me!"

"Well, did you try?"

She feels bad for even asking this. She knows how Anakin is at the moment. She doubts Padmé will have met anything else than a wall of silence and defiance. But she has betrayed him, and though Ahsoka is as guilty as Padmé is, she feels it's her duty to defend him at that moment.

"I did! I called and called again. And he doesn't answer..."

"We're on the middle of a war. He can't..."

"We've always managed! Always! He'd call me back when he had the time. And he would drop by whenever he could, even if it meant we only had a few hours together! And now when he finally swings by he barely looks at me, and he leaves as soon as he hears of Obi-Wan being there... And I had... I _really_ had to talk to him, and not about that _thing!_ " she exclaims, pointing at the symbol burnt into the wall. "But he just... Took off. Not even a goodbye."

Ahsoka sighs again. Oh how she wishes that Anakin and Padmé's marriage was still a secret right now. She could ignore this that way. She wouldn't have to play mediator between them. 

Not that she's doing much good anyway. 

"He knows we lied to him," she admits. "And believe me, he wouldn't be talking to me if we weren't on the front-line." 

"So. Obi-Wan." Padmé's laugh is a tiny bitter thing, and it makes Ahsoka's heart ache. Yes, Obi-Wan. Of course it's Obi-Wan. What isn't those days? "He's not... Going to join him, is he?"

"Well..."

Padmé sits on her bed abruptly, as if her legs cannot support her anymore, and a lone tear rolls over her cheek.

"I knew it. I hoped I was just boasting... And my fears getting the best of me but..."

"Padmé." Ahsoka crouches before in front of her Master's wife, taking her hands in his, her will to stick with Anakin this time crumbling like a sand castle in the wind. "Hey, listen. He has a plan." It's not like he has asked her to keep it from Padmé, anyway. Right? "To bring him back."

"But how can he possibly do that? I've seen him, Ahsoka. He isn't the Obi-Wan I knew! Not anymore. And he won't let Anakin do as he pleases and he won't let him go once he has him."

"He won't have a choice. I told you, Anakin has a plan. He'll pretend to give him what he wants and then he'll..."

It was the wrong thing to say, if Padmé's expression going from midly distressed to full on despair is anything to go by. 

" _Give him what he wants?_ Did _Anakin_ said that?"

"Well... I suggested it. And he seemed to know what that was, even though he didn't told me. Why? Do _you_ know?"

"Oh, I _know_. _Obi-Wan_ has told me... Well, not in as many words, but his thoughts were obvious... I think... I think Anakin is going to _seduce_ him."

Ahsoka is left speechless. Anakins is going to do _what_? Surely she must have misheard... But Padmé's face tells her that no, all is working well in the monthral area.

 _So Obi-Wan is... What? In love with Anakin?_ Well that both explains a lot and leaves her with even more questions.

And now she's starting to really regret suggesting that part of the plan. This is such a bad idea! If Obi-Wan discovers it's a ploy... And Anakin is married to Padmé! How could he accept to go on with that idea if he knows what it entails? Unless he feels something more than Obi-Wan than he lets on...

_Kriff! Now I get why she's reacting like that._

"He _loves_ you," she says in the most reassuring tone she can muster. "He would never have broken the Code - for _you_ -  if he didn't."

"He has never had much love for rules. And he was young, Ahsoka, only two years older than you are now..."

"Well I can make sensible decisions you know!"

That gets a true laugh out of Padmé, and she pats Ahsoka's cheek with affection.

"Oh, I know that! But you're much more sensible than he ever was!" 

 

* * *

 

_"Come with me?"_

Anakin is shaking against Obi-Wan, and he moves up the hand he's placed on his apprentice's arm to cup his cheek, turning his face to him so he can look into his eyes. They're unfocused, and his breath still as short, not having calmed yet after his duel with Tyranus. Or maybe it's something else...

"I..."

 _Yes._  Obi-Wan knows he going say yes. He can feel it. Through their bond and the way Anakin leans into him.

He doesn't even know what he would do if Anakin says no. He wants to believe he wouldn't force him, that he would respect his decision and let him go if he doesn't want to follow but quite frankly... After so much time keeping away from him, he has run out of patience. 

But that's not important, because Anakin has been looking for him. Has been asking him to stay. He's not repelled by the darkness in Obi-Wan. At least not enough to refuse him his company, even though he thinks he wants to exorcise it... 

But he will not stay in the light long enough to succeed, if success is even possible - which Obi-Wan doubts very much. Anakin is on the edge of darkness himself. So close to aligning himself with Obi-Wan once more.

He's fighting it, though, and that struggle is causing pain and confusion inside of him, to the point that he can't get out a complete sentence.

"Yeah... _Of course_ I'll..." 

He cuts himself off once more, closing his eyes and exhaling a shaky breath.

Obi-Wan doesn't allow himself to bask in the glee that those mumbled words of acceptance provoke, focusing instead on soothing the young man's distress. 

"Hey. Listen to me," he says softly but firmly while reaching through their bond "Don't fight it. Let it sink in."

And Anakin does - though Obi-Wan is sure he doesn't know exactly what it is he's doing, but it doesn't matter. He's leading the process, and _he_ knows - and the darkness that's been unleashed during the duel digs its roots a bit more, not enough to break the stone foundations of the Code and snuff out the Light, but still deep enough that they won't get teared out or wither with time.

For all it's working against his interests, he can't help but marvel at Anakin's resilience.

He's unstable, yes, and highly emotive, and a lesser man would have been swept from his feet a long time ago, and would have fell to the deepest recesses of the Force spectrum. Obi-Wan isn't ashamed to admit that he's such a man. It had been ridiculously easy to give in. Too hard to resist.

But Anakin... He's just... Something else. Something amazing, and intoxicating.

He's the Chosen One.

If they were in any other place, any other day, he would take it as a challenge. Would put all his might and spirit into pushing Anakin to the fall, but now isn't the moment. He has done enough for today, and they have other things to worry about. They can't stay in the Senate for long, and Obi-Wan has things to discuss with the assassin he brought there and the politician still passed out in his chair.

"Now breath."

Again he obeys, and for a moment their breaths are in sync, just like they used to be when they meditated together. Or just like the beat of their hearts in a fight. 

"Okay," Anakin says finally, holding up a hand. "I'm good."

Obi-Wan lets Anakin go, allowing him to take a step back. It's only then that he notices Ventress, standing behind Anakin, looking at them and appearing far too entertained for his taste.

"What."

"If you two are done... With whatever you were doing." She wiggles her eyebrows at that, an incongruous view on someone whose resting face easily qualifies as "ferocious". "Do you have anything else planned for today?"

"I'm glad to hear you're still interested in my plans. Unless...?"

"I'll follow you, Melior. Granted we're going the same way."

"And where are you going, my dear?"

"Back to Serenno, I suppose, unless you're planning on making a move on the Republic now."

Anakin's eyes widen at the suggestion, and Obi-Wan is almost tempted to say yes just to see his reaction.

"I don't think it would be such a good idea without an army. We're talented and powerful people... but we're not invincible."

"Then I'll see you at the ship, Melior."

Ventress starts out in the direction of the door but stops after a few steps, turning back to Anakin and says:

“I’m glad it was you. He despised you. So he died in shame. Thank you.”

Anakin’s eyes are wide and he looks more confused than ever, and for a moment he looks as if he wants to speak, by in the end he just nods and watches Ventress go with a stunned look.

"Well that was weird."

"Not really," Obi-Wan chuckles. "She has wanted him dead for some time now. And you're not her enemy... Not anymore."

Anakin steps away from him and looks around the room, his gaze stopping for a few seconds over the cooling corpse of Darth Tyranus. His expression is indecipherable but Obi-Wan has other ways to know his mood. He's torn between guilt and satisfaction. One less enemy for them and the Republic to worry about. He just doesn't like the way it went down.

"What about him?" he, pointing at the still form of Mas Amedda.

Obi-Wan has almost forgotten about the Chancellor... Well, Acting Chancellor. He's half of a mind of killing him right here and now, but two murders in one day might be just one too much for Anakin. And he really doesn't want him to flip out and decide that he doesn't want to come with Obi-Wan, after all.

No, he's got to do this in the diplomatic way. Slip back into the skin of the Negotiator.

"Can you wait outside, please? I have to talk to him."

"Why, do you have something to hide?"

His tone is playful but his eyes tell a whole other story. He doesn't trust Obi-Wan to not do something evil, and while it makes him roll his eyes, he probably isn't wrong to be suspicious. He's been trained for this, after all, and being too trusting wouldn't be good for someone who lives the kind of life Anakin does. But it's still annoying.

"No. But he might be hesitant to talk in your presence."

Anakin shrugs and walks up to the door. He stops just outside of it and turns back toward the inside, crossing his arms before his chest, pouting like a goddamn kid that has been sent to bead early. He looks impatient, and too fucking adorable to withstand.

Instead of just standing there to just look at Anakin like he wants to, Obi-Wan clears out his throat and and goes to the stand and the chair that occupies it. 

Two fingers to the forehead and Mas Amedda comes back to his senses, jerking away from Obi-Wan's hand and looking around the room , his mouth falling open and his eyes widening at the sight of the mess left behind by Anakin.

"What happened here?!"

"Sorry for the mess, Chancellor. We lightsaber users tend to get a bit... Destructive when meeting with people from the other camp." 

"Is that Anakin Skywalker?"

Said Anakin Skywalker throws Amedda a nasty look from the doorway he's standing at when he notices them looking at him.

"You demanded for him to be present."

"Because Count Dooku asked for it. I thought he was going to kill _him,_ not the other way around _._ "

Obi-Wan smiles. A cold smile that he hopes shows all the contempt he has for the man in front of him. It's a poor trade-off for cutting off his head, which is what he truly want to do right now, but this is not the right time. Not yet.

"Well, my apprentice had the upper hand."

"Your apprentice? So you're back together?"

"It seems so. I fear he won't be much present on the battlefields in the future, Chancellor. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"I have an offer for you."

"Of course you have." Amedda snickers, his white teeth under the blue light making a sharp contrast with his indigo looking skin. "So, let's hear it."

"As I'm sure you know, I have the Clone Army. I have the armada."

"Are you menacing the Republic?"

"No. I want to _serve_ the Republic."

Amedda laughs again.

"Really? I thought it was only a pretense, for Amidala's sake... Or are you still pretending?"

"I'm not lying when I say I want to win this war."

"Oh, that I believe, but do you want to win it for the Republic... Or for yourself?"

As if Amedda cares for the Republic. He's in it for himself, just as Obi-Wan is, just like everyone is... Even the Jedi, for all they pretend to be selfless. Extinguishing all personal ambition is impossible, Obi-Wan knows it. Hadn't he been flattered, and proud, to be one of the youngest Masters to ever make it on the High Council? Hadn't he secretly enjoyed to be one of the greatest Generals of his generation, the Negotiator, half of the heroic pair that made up the face of the Grand Army of the Republic? He had, he can admit it now. He'd been ashamed of it then, but he had nonetheless. And if he had, other Jedi do.

But politic is pretending, and so he pretends, just as he did with Dooku, that he only wishes to serve. And somehow it also works. What is it, Obi-Wan wonders, that make people think he's such a selfless man? Has he been so perfect at emulating the Code all those years that now people can't see him any other way, even when they're themselves conniving liars?

So he threads a web of promises and paint a picture full of benefits for both himself and the candidate he'll decide to support. 

It seems to work. Amedda listens to him, and seem to be genuinely thinking about it. Though it could be a lie, like everything else, but then Obi-Wan will just have to kill him. 

From the corner of his eyes, Obi-Wan can see Anakin getting more and more anxious, playing with the lightsaber - _lightsabers_ , Obi-Wan notes. He has kept Dooku's - at his hip, running a nervous hand in his messy hair, and generally looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

He doesn't like what's going on here, it's clear as day. This goes against everything they've been told, and he has never liked Amedaa anyway, Obi-Wan knows. Add to that that the man is running against Anakin's wife...

"I can't make any promise before the election," Amedda says, bringing back Obi-Wan's attention on him. "I hope you understand that, General."

"I understand, of course. We don't want to influence the public opinion in any way before the big day, do we?"

Amedda grins at him. 

"Then good evening, Chancellor. I look forward to treating with you once more."

Without waiting for any answer, he turns away from Amedda and walks up to Anakin, whom he clasp on shoulder briefly before starting down the hallway.

"Come."

"Uh, we gotta go the other way. I left Artoo in the hall..."

Obi-Wan feels a spark of annoyance at the declaration. That stupid droid... Well, Obi-Wan is actually quite fond of it, for a non-sentient, and can admit it had gotten them out of sticky situation in rather interesting ways, but it's still a machine. It's replaceable. There's thousands of units just like this one in the Galaxy. But Anakin treats it like an actual person, like _a friend_. Obi-Wan has always been bemused by that. He can't even _feel it_ in the Force! It's like talking to a computer terminal or a datapad. Something you give orders too, not have a conversation with!

Speaking of orders... he focuses on the familiar spark of life that is Cody, so far away on Korriban. He's immediately aware of the dark mass of the Sith ghosts that haunt this place, but he ignore them in favor of convening his instruction to the Commander. 

He vaguely register Anakin's steps faltering and his mind... Shivering, but he's to focused on his task to concern himself about it.

He doesn't feel like going back to Serenno, even though he didn't contradict Ventress when she spoke of it. A destroyer will come to meet them halfway, and they'll finish their journey on it, instead of the comfortable and luxurious but rather cramped cruiser they took to come from Serenno. He wants space and privacy. Time alone with Anakin. He wants the security of a warship, and their colors upon it.

And he wants to get a move on with his plans. Which, even though he's connected to the Clones, he feels more comfortable doing from what must now be a respectable base, if only for the fact that he needs feedback on the state of his army. 

“Now, Anakin, tell me. What are the numbers?”

"Of what? The troops?"

"Yes."

"Why would I tell you that?"

“Please, don’t be difficult. I just want to know if Amedda is going to try and double cross us. And if he has the means to do it.”

“You didn’t use the Force on him?”

“No."

"Why? You could have..."

"Because he’s more clever than he lets on. And he has been Sidious’s for far too long for his mind to not be protected against exterior menaces. Knocking him out and waking him up was the most I was able to do.”

“But you tricked _Windu_ and all the others.”

“I was… Borrowing from you, I think. Through our bond."

Anakin doesn't reply to that, nor does he reply to Obi-Wan's initial question. Whatever, he'll get the information later, from either Anakin or through his contacts.

They keep on walking.

That's when Obi-Wan catches his reflection, in one of the wide mirrors that line up the walls of this section of the building.

His eyes have gone back to Sith yellow, probably during Anakin's and Dooku's fight.

It's no surprise, really, given how they have connected at that moment, fighting together in mind if not in body, Anakin using the Form that was Obi-Wan's during his youth, up until that fateful day on Naboo, when he'd given up on the aggression of Ataru for the defensive Soresu. He'd shared his rage with Anakin, thus opening the floodgates of his mind, allowing himself to feel fully and relinquishing the hold he'd managed to get over his emotions.

Now he doesn't want to go back to that unfeeling state Tyranus pushed him into on the last days of their partnership, telling him that he had to go through it in order to put a damper on the Dark Side's influence over him. To switch things around so he can chose when to use his emotions. And, yes, it worked, as far as his exterior appearance is concerned, but he didn't fell any stronger and, anyway, Obi-Wan didn't fall to submit himself again to this shit. No, he wants to enjoy Anakin's presence at his side, wants to be able to revel in his victory in that race to win back his prize and for the control of the Galaxy...

He wonders briefly when the later as become something he actually wants rather than a mere way to get the former, but the thought is quickly chased away and soon it's as if he never had it. There are more important things. Like the gorgeous man he's walking the deserted halls of the Senate Building with.

He slows down a bit so as to follow behind Anakin and he allows his gaze to linger on large shoulders and long legs he can already see wrapped around him.

He wants to reach out, with the Force and with his hands. Wants to tackle him to a wall and ravage him, explore this body he's dreamed of for so long

It's hard to keep himself in check, and he has to remind himself of his resolution from months ago when he had decided to wait for Anakin to make the first step.

He wants Anakin to be his, and that means all of him. Not just his body, but his heart and his soul too.

And that means he has to weed Amidala out of said heart.

As they walk through the halls of the Senate, he builds up his trap carefully in his mind.

"You wanted to know why I met with Padmé..." he starts off slowly.

Anakin throws him another quick look before turning his gaze back ahead. He's been doing that a lot today. Not looking at Obi-Wan. It's starting to get frustrating.

"You said she had something you wanted."

"Yes."

Oh, Force does he wants.

"I've looked into that leak. You asked her to be reinstated as a General." Anakin stops then, finally turning to look at him. "Why did you ask for that? You knows she can't do anything about it! Do you even really _want_ that? You've never believed in this war! You don't enjoy it... And you... You're a..."

He's looking away again, and Obi-Wan has to crowd in to force Anakin to meet his eyes.

"A Sith?"

They keep looking at each other for a moment until Obi-Wan takes a step back and Anakin exhales with a chuckle that Obi-Wan can't explain. What lurks inside Anakin's head right now is too complex to get a read on. 

"So. _Melior_ , uh?"

"Tyranus's choice. I quite like it."

"Mhm." 

"I just want to fight at your side, you know."

The way Anakin catches his breath sends a thrill throughout him, and it reminds him how he's always been craving affection and recognition, even though he has denied it, pretending to be toughed than he was to please Obi-Wan. Does he realize how things have changed now? How nothing can please Obi-Wan more than Anakin accepting his affection?

"I would have given up on my plans if she had accepted. Or at least promised to try to do something about it once elected but instead she..." Now is the moment. Will Anakin believe him? “You know,” he says cautiously, “I think she tried to kill me… I can’t be sure it was her if course…”

“It was her.”

All his carefully planed arguments are blown away by the wind Anakin's anger as it courses through their bond with the unmistakable taste of the Dark Side.. There's no need for them as it seems. 

"How do you know that? Did she told you?"

"Ahsoka told me."

It's only when hearing her name that Obi-Wan realizes that he hasn't thought about her in months. He feels a bit guilty about it, a feeling he hasn't experienced in a long time.

Suddenly he wishes she would join them, but he doubts it's ever going to happen. She's too independent too headstrong for that. It saddens him. Her presence would certainly contribute in making Anakin happy. And, well, Obi-Wan himself. She's been like another Padawan for him, even though it has never been official. 

"They sent me away to Ilum. On purpose, I mean. They didn't want me to intervene. Or even to know until it was too late."

Once again he's filled with a mix of anger and satisfaction. Anger because they have _no right_... And yet they keep trying to keep them apart. And satisfaction because Padmé did half of the job for him as it seems.

And he wants to ask...

"What do you think of it?"

"I am... Angry." Blue eyes seek Obi-Wan's and Anakin declares, as if waiting for his reaction: "It'll take me some time to forgive that."

He can recognize a bait when he sees one, but he can't help himself.

"But you're angry. That's good."

"How can that be _good_?"

"Anger will make you stronger. You'll need that." He grins at the young man. "You should forget about the Code, Anakin. You'll feel so much better once you do."

"Every time I hear you talk like that... It's like I'm dreaming. And not the good kind of dream."

"It's not a dream, Anakin. I'm on the Dark Side now. You have to accept that."

"I can't... Obi-Wan..."

"Then why did you said yes?"

He knows Anakin has wanted to turn him back. But that's not possible, isn't it? Or else he would have done it already, in those first days after his fall. He'd struggled so hard to go back to the Light. To no avail. He had just sunk deeper and deeper as fear then desperation then anger took over, along with a burning jealousy and an equally ardent desire that he could no longer suppress. 

So he expects Anakin to try to convince him again, but he's almost calm when he turns to him and focus those disarming blue eyes on him.

"I... I guess I just want to fight at your side."

Obi-Wan steps back, blinking as Anakin throws his own words back at him, but a smile quickly makes its way onto his face.

"So we agree to disagree, that's it?"

He can work with that.

They're welcomed into the main hall by what sounds to Obi-Wan's ears like inquiring beeps. He's never been fluent in binary, contrary to his apprentice, so he can't be too sure of what is being said. Though he speaks a fair amount of languages, he has never bothered learning more than the basis, as he thought that any good droid should have a Basic modulator. The lack of it on astromechs was rather frustrating, but at least he could communicate with them through a digital display while in his starfighter.

He patiently waits as Anakin questions the droid, who has become rather frantic. He gets why when Anakin finally turns to him and translates:

"The Jedi are here," He looks resigned, and far too sad for Obi-Wan's tastes, though he has to admit to himself he's pleased by the way he says it. _"The Jedi"_. Not the Order, as he would have said if he'd still considered himself part of them. "We're surrounded."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey it took 17 chapter but look: Anakin isn't the only person to cry in this fic anymore! :D


	18. Scraps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, this took a looong while to write.  
> But it's also, like, massive so we're good, right? :DDD
> 
> FYI i don't know shit about Cin Drallig except that he's the Battlemaster and I think people call him the Troll? :D oh and he was in the Clone Wars episode with that thing about Ahsoka being wrongly accused of... attacking the Temple I think? Yeah, haven't seen that.  
> Anyway: I needed a Jedi Master and he was there on the list.

"Block all the entries! No one comes out of that building, you hear me?!"

The Senate Guards who withdrew earlier on the command of the Acting Chancellor spread on Cin Drallig's order, accompanied by a hundred Temple's Guards.

It's unusual for the later to even step out of the Temple's premise, but who is left on Coruscant except children and elders? Just them. The Order's numbers have been drastically reduced by the war. And with the present state of affairs, there's barely two thousands of them left at the Temple, Padawans and Initiates and Healers and Creche Masters. and since they can't leave the Temple undefended anyway, the force that has been assembled today seems far too thin to circle the gigantic building.

As for the Senate Guards, they aren't supposed to obey Jedi, but it took only a few minutes to convince their captain that the Chancellor's orders have been given under menace, which is actually probably the truth.

Unless he's a traitor to the Republic, a two faced opportunist that would rather deal with the enemy rather than fight for what's right.

But whatever his true intentions are, the fact remains that they're in dire need of assistance.

They won't all be needed once their targets exit the building, but until they  _do..._

They can't even trust the Force to tell them where the targets will come out. The Senate is too severely tainted by the Dark Side for Drallig to feel anything interesting going on inside of it, has been since Kenobi chose to turn it into a slaughterhouse half a year ago.

" _A massive shift has taken place there_ ," Aylaa Secura has confided to him, after the Jedi delegation had came back from the building.  _"Even Master Yoda can't really explain it, it's like the weft of the Force has rearranged itself but in a_ wrong  _way, and now the place is... cursed."_

And today it's somehow even worse, probably because of the two Sith hiding inside of it.

But he isn't complaining. First because he hasn't complained about anything since he was ten years old, and second because this is an occasion that won't present itself again.

Count Dooku and Obi-Wan Kenobi in one day. The Force is smiling on them.

And they won't be the only prices of this mission. Asajj Ventress seems to be there too, and even though she's rumored to not be a true Sith - Drallig isn't certain what the requirements are, but since none of the Jedi who've met her and survived have ever named her that way, she doesn't seem to fill them - but the assassin is nonetheless ranking high on the list of the enemies of the Republic.

And then there is Skywalker.

The Battlemaster frowns just thinking about the man. Anakin Skywalker has always... Bothered him, somehow. Not only was he a nightmare for anyone in charge of the security during his years as Padawan, but Drallig had also the dubious pleasure to serve as his instructor, teaching the boy the subtleties of Shien, a form that his own Master insisted he wasn't good enough at to teach himself. Exaggerated modesty, Drallig knows. Kenobi was good enough for Skywalker, and he suspected that the now fallen Jedi had just wanted to get rid of his Padawan for a few hours a week. He didn't blame him for that. Skywalker was an handful. Skilled but moody and hard to control. He had made quick progress in the sense that he did beat his opponents easily, but he had so little discipline... The Battlemaster couldn't count the number of times he'd had to separate him from another Padawan with whom things had gotten to heated. So to be quite honest, Drallig had been surprised that Kenobi had been the one to fall, instead of Skywalker.

Or maybe Skywalker has finally pushed his Master to the end of his rope.

 _What is he even doing on Coruscant?_ He should be on his way to Mordagon, in the Expansion Region, Master Windu informed him when Drallig called him to relay the Chancellor's demand. And yet he'd been seen walking into the Senate less than an hour before, alone but for his astromech.

Has he planned this with Kenobi? Were they working together all along, after all? Has he managed to dupe the Council?

_I knew him going off on his own wasn't as innocent as the others thought._

Drallig has been called paranoiac many times, but damn if he hasn't called it this time! He and Master Windu and Saesee Tiin had been in favor of keeping Skywalker under constant surveillance, maybe even to keep him both as prisoner and bait. But most of the Council members and, most importantly, Master Yoda, had opposed them, saying that Skywalker was innocent and unlikely to become a menace. The three of them had bowed to the majority, even though Windu could have imposed his will, as the Master of the Order. Yoda's opinion was always the most respected, and it wouldn't have been good to ignore it. 

The old Master has been proved wrong, though he would never had admitted it. Skywalker had taken off as soon as he was free, going after his fallen Master in a foolish attempt to bring him back to the Light, something never witnessed, to Drallig's knowledge. It shows just how far Skywalker's loyalty to his Master goes, that he would risk his place in the Order and Kenobi turning against him in order to save him, and since it's an impossible task, whose to say he won't decide to just join him instead?

"And someone finds me Ahsoka Tano!"

If Skywalker is on Coruscant, then maybe his Padawan is too. She could be a precious asset in this situation, with how close the two of them are rumored to be. If only she would answer her comm.

The buzz of his own comm tears him away from his though, and he answers it without moving his gaze away from the entry he's facing. He hopes they're going to come out this way. It's been some time since he has seen a proper fight. Not that he will be at the heart of it, though if Kenobi or Dooku come close enough...

"Sir! It's Ventress! She managed to slip past us!"

"Where?"

"North entry, sir. She bolted right to where we parked their ship."

Drallig swears between his teeth.

"I told you to get rid of it, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry sir, we thought it would be alright to just move it..."

Drallig sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Alright. Just... Keep her from taking off, if you can. We'll talk about this lat..."

"Sir!" It's one of the Temple Guard closest to him. She's pointing at the entry they facing them. "Someone's coming out!"

Kenobi and Skywalker.

The Heroes of the Republic.

They come out together, close enough for they elbows to touch, both wearing dark clothes that already look bad enough when Skywalker is the only one parading in them - a choice Drallig has never understood. Why wear colors that are associated with the enemy? - but now, in the evening light, coming out of this cursed place, they look like they're bringing only death and darkness with them.

They look like Sith.

"Look at them!" he shouts, pointing at the Kenobi and Skywalker, walking behind the line of his men and using the trick that allows his voice to carry over an entire training ground. They'll all hear him. They need to hear him. "Do you see how they embraced the Dark Side? Can you sense it coming off from them like the fumes of a drain? They aren't Jedi! Not anymore. They are traitors to the Order and to the Living Force! Don't hold back, because they won't." He posts himself at what is now the center of the line, right in front of the two Sith. "Ready!"

His men draw their weapons as one, yellow blades blooming in a luminous circle. Behind them, the Senate Guards raise their riffles, though they have been ordered to take the shot only if their life are endangered or their targets are about to escape. Those kills belong to the Order.

He can see Kenobi's smile as he switches on his own lightsaber, it's crimson blade a burning insult in this place that is supposed to represent everything the Sith have sworn to destroy millennia ago.

But Skywalker stops at the fringe of the shadow projected by the mass of the Senate.

The first four Jedi to detach themselves from the ranks and advance on Kenobi don't last long, and the Battlemaster has to force himself to stay put, fighting against his pride that tells him he could take him on, save his men's lives by giving his. Surely he could at least injure the Sith before dying, if he can't kill him... But he's the Battlemaster. The captain of the Guard. He's a leader, and a teacher. He's more valuable to the Order alive, and that isn't pride or self-preservation. It's a fact. And surely, he has been good enough of an instructor that his men will win...

Especially when Skywalker is still frozen on the spot.

"Anakin! Get a move on!"

 

* * *

 

There isn't one ship or a speeder in sight. Not Dooku’s, not Amedda’s, not even some secretary's low class vehicle. Just a ring of Guards, half of them wearing the golden robes and masks of the Temple Guard and the other the blues of the Senate.

Obi-Wan can feel a ferocious smile appear on his face. Finally. Some action.  

He doesn't even try to not be happy about it, like he would have done before his fall. He's been ashamed of enjoying the rush of a fight, had tried so hard to no feel the exaltation that came with having someone's life in the palm of his hand. Life was something to be respected, not toyed with, and the Code was pitiless for those who debased it. 

_I wonder if they would sing the same song though, if more of the Jedi's enemies were sentient._

If they were to put down dozens of living, breathing, feeling creatures a day instead of droids. If they were to feel the spark of their life erupt in a last burst of pain and fear before dissolving into the Living Force. If they were to experiment that feeling of total power over something supposedly as sacred as _life itself_... How long would they hold on to the Code then? They would discard it, he knows it. just as he did, when his eyes were finally opened up and he saw the endless possibilities he'd been blind to before.

Surely he can't be the only one who's been hiding this pit of hunger and violence, deep inside of him - not deep enough though. 

Anakin has it. He's seen it. Had been alarmed by it but also... the sight of his apprentice's feral expression as he plunged his saber into a bounty hunter's guts had found an echo inside of him, telling him that they would be so fucking perfect for each other, if only... 

Obi-Wan laughs at the memory of his past self's mortification when he'd finally stopped this train of thought. Oh, if he could have a chat with this person he had been! He would have realized that there was much worse he could be thinking about. Like all the people he wanted to murder, Padmé Amidala at the top of the list. 

His lightsaber cut into an anonymous body as if it were butter, and he turns to his companion, avid to share the joy of this fight with him.

But Anakin is still frozen at the edge of the fight, hasn't been yet engaged by anyone but it's a matter of seconds now. 

" _Anakin! Get a move on!"_

He does, finally, walking out of the shadows and into the dimming sunlight. He unhooks one of the two lightsabers at his belt, and gets into a battle stance. But when Obi-wan looks back at him a minute and two dead Jedi later, he still hasn't switched it on.

He’s holding back, using the Force instead of his blade, and Obi-Wan has the distinct feeling that this isn't his first round at this game.

 _Idiot probably tried to hide his blade even on the front line,_ Obi-Wan thinks,torn between frustration and the ridiculous affection he feels whenever Anakin does something stupid. It has always been that way, annoyingly for someone who values efficacy so much as Obi-Wan does. It has probably avoided Anakin a good deal of lectures too, because his Master had been too busy either trying to repress a fond smile or later, to keep himself from just kissing him.

"Anakin!"

They gravitate toward each other, falling in a back to back position, as they did a thousand time. In moment like this, their bond is like a compass, allowing them to keep close, to have each other's back. It's not for nothing they have the greatest win count of the Clone Wars. Together, they're invincible.

Or they would if Anakin would get over his qualms about killing Jedi. 

“Listen to me!" Obi-Wan throws over his shoulder. "You can’t hesitate! They won’t. They’ll try to kill us. You have to kill them first.”

"But I can't! They're..."

"They're nobodies! You don't know them, and they have no loyalty for you or me! They won't stay their hand! Kill them!"

As one man, they both launch themselves back in the action as another wave of Temple Guard surrounds them.

Force, Obi-Wan hates them. 

Being a Temple Guard is supposed to be a great honor, and relinquishing one's identity to take on the mask and robes of the function is said to be the ultimate the ultimate expression of emotional detachment required in service to a higher calling but the truth is that it is a punishment, yet another dump where those who aren't good enough are relegated. It's better than the Agricorps, is what the freshly knighted Jedi who are sent there say to each other, but some could argue that at least you're being truly useful in the Corps, and you don't have to stand still all day long, wearing a mask and obeying those who should be your peers.

Obi-Wan has wore the mask for a month, in the last year of his apprenticeship. He'd been growing weary of being stuck under Qui-Gon's tutelage, and the short temper he'd managed to tame after becoming his Padawan had made its come back, getting on his Master's nerves enough that he'd been left at the Temple during the last mission they'd been given before Naboo. He'd been ordered to leave his lightsaber behind in his room and to present himself to the captain of the Guard, who had ended him a double ended pike and a mask, and told him to go stand in a hallway.

Had followed four weeks of intense and mind numbing boredom, and Obi-Wan had swore to himself that he'd never let anyone put that mask on him again.

For all he had tried to be the perfect Jedi, there was still this part of him - maybe the very same that wanted death and destruction - that was desperately craved to be unique, to raise himself from the masses of mindless drones, to shine in the Force like no one had before, to become one of the Order's legends.

This ambition hasn't left him, though it took another form when he found that one person that outshone him, and another one when he fell. "One of the Order's legends" became "raising the Chosen One" which became... What exactly, he isn't sure yet. What he knows though, is that he doesn't shine anymore. He's darkness, a storm of boiling black clouds that will swallow those weak and faceless creatures that dare believe that ants can topple down a god.

Speaking of god... 

Spinning around to cut off, this time, a Senate Guard's head - who do they think they are, attacking a Sith Lord with a _riffle_? - Obi-Wan is greeted by a sight worthy of being painted on some temple's walls. 

Anakin has finally got on with the program. He's swirling his blade now, as intimidating and beautiful as is sung all over the Holonet, but with the added twist of his red blade. It makes his opponents hesitate and make mistake, probably disturbed by the sight of the Chosen One wielding a Sith blade. He locks eyes with Obi-Wan when he realizes he's being watched, and without looking, hacks off his opponent arm, causing the man? Woman? Something else? Who knows with those masks - to fall to the ground with a scream. Then he goes on, living the amputated Jedi to squirm and whine over his stump. 

But Obi-Wan knows him too well, as the first person to put a lightsaber in his hand and as the man who has fought at his side for years, Anakin is still not fighting to his full potential, and it sets him on edge. He’s starting to fear that he’ll get hurt, or worse, as he pulls his blow and stops inches of taking lives, and the number of Jedi around him doesn't decrease - though a good number has lost limbs or will have scars big enough that eve bact won't erase them.

What can motivate him enough?

He won’t fight for his own safety. His survival instincts are close to zero. That makes him a great warrior usually, as he will risk his life to put the slightest dent in the enemy's defense, get on suicide mission he'll come back only because the Force seems to want him alive against all odds. But today it makes him put the lives of their assailants before his own, and that's not how you stay alive, let alone win a fight.

_You won't fight for yourself... Will you fight for me?_

It isn't as easy as he thought, his own skills, instincts and pride too strong for allowing him to do it without a struggle, and he kills three other Jedi before he manage to calm down and push aside the bloodlust that almost has his body on autopilot - a blessing, in his opinion, because focus isn't easy to attain when your very hot and very stupid apprentice is around - and when he finally does, he has to wait for Anakin to turn around, so he's in his line of sight... and he lets himself be disarmed.

His lightsaber falls to the ground, and the Guard facing him calls it to his hand. Obi-Wan is close enough to his opponent that he can see his grey eyes widen through the slits in his mask as he does it, as if he can't believe he has managed to best an ex-Council member, to take his lightsaber from a Sith.

"A shocker, right?" he chuckles, holding up his hands in surrender. "I mean, I'm  _me_  and you're... Well, not really anyone."

He’s hesitating. The Code forbids to take down an unarmed enemy, and this man knows Obi-Wan, by face and reputation if not personally.

_Who hesitates..._

The lightsaber flies into the air, going right through two Temple Guards’ midsections, twisted handle included and, as it get closer, taking on a spin that cuts off the head of the man facing Obi-Wan, achieving its course in his still held up hand. He stares at it for a second, surprised to find blood on it. Most lightsaber inflicted wounds are bloodless, but it seems that the peculiar shape of that one somehow ripped at the already cauterized flesh as it went through its first two victims.

   
 

 

He doesn’t have the time to linger on the sight though, because Ventress chooses that moment to come hover right above them in Dooku's ship, so he just closes his fist around the bloodied handle and promptly clears out the space around him before picking back up his own lightsaber.

She's immediately taken as a target by the Senate Guard, but riffles can only do so much against military class shields.

They’d need tanks at the very least to blow a hole through that ship. And everything stronger than that is either fixed to the ground, on board of ships to far away to be of any immediate use or has been sent away from Coruscant years ago to defend the Republic.

It’s pathetic, really.

Get past the planetary shield, and the heart of the Galaxy is as defenceless as any backwater world in the Outer Rim.

 _I’m going to change that,_ Obi-Wan decides. No empire of his should appear – or worse, actually  _be_ – as weak as…

 _An empire?_ He isn’t sure were that thought has come from, but he likes the sound of it.

Wielding his and Dooku's stolen blade, he gets rid of a few more Jedi - just because - before Force-jumping onto the opened ramp that hangs twenty meters above the ground. Anakin follows a few seconds later, and and they walk into the the ship to the cockpit where Ventress is gleefully shooting at the two Guards on the ground. This ship's canons aren't very powerful - or else they wouldn't have been allowed planetside - but they do some damage.

"Anakin..." Obi-Wan catches him by the collar, turning him around to face him. Their bond doesn't broadcast any pain signal, but it wouldn't be the first time his apprentice has been injured without even noticing it. They're too used to be wounded in battle to let it disturb them much, and adrenaline can dull the pain of lesser wounds enough that a battle focused warrior won't notice it until the fight is long over. "Are you alright?" he inquires, his voice surprisingly strangled. 

Force, what would he even do if he was really hurt? The hand that's still gripping his collar slides down Anakin's torso, not really doing much in assessing damage, but it's still comforting to feel him alive under his palm. The other rises to the young man's cheek, and he watches with fascination his throat's movement as Anakin swallows before responding: 

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm alright." He looks - and sounds – tired. Physically and emotionally. So Obi-Wan has a bit of a trouble believing him a hundred percent, but there also really doesn't seem to be any actual injury on him so Obi-Wan sighs, relieved, and takes a step back, his bloodied hand leaving a red streak down Anakin’s neck as he lets go of him. "What about you?"

He still isn't as shaken up as Obi-Wan hoped he would be, though. Probably because the Code allows to kill in self defense, which Obi-Wan used as a motivator to get Anakin to throw himself fully in the fight.

It's frustrating but, still, it's one step closer.

Throwing his head back to dislodge the strand of hair that has fallen before his eyes, Obi-Wan rolls his shoulders with a groan. It seems that one on ones aren't quite making up for his absence from the battlefield. He needs to train with multiple opponents more often. Or maybe just with Anakin. Even matched and knowing each other as intimately as they do, their sparring session would often last as long as they were still standing on their legs, ending only when the most tired would tap out or the outside world would remember itself to them, and they would collapse to the ground wringing wet and blowing hard, laughing breathlessly... And it's exactly the kind of work out Obi-Wan needs nowadays. Something he can lose himself in, throw all his energy in, and maybe actually sleep at night, rather than keeping awake thinking of what could be, and what he could have had.

He can see Anakin's own eyes following his movement, like a lothcat watching a bird.  _But this bird's talons are sharper than this kitten's claws._ Obi-Wan grins at him, making a show of stretching, and Anakin looks down, blushing.

Obi-Wan blinks, letting his arms fall along his sides.  _Oh Force..._ Is this really working? Is Anakin actually  _attracted_ to him? This somehow comes as a surprise, even though he has hoped and fantasized, there was always that doubt, that niggling thought that it was all in his head, that he would have to make him fall to the Dark Side before he could fall  _for him_ , but maybe he can work this the other way around...?

_Oh, dear one, we're going to have so much fun together..._

He wants to play this game, wants to make him as mad with lust as Obi-Wan as himself been for what seems like ages now.

It's going to be hard to stick to his resolve, but he's got some practice now, doesn't he? Years of holding back to the Code, and months of holding back to his plans...

But maybe he ought to wear less tight pants from now on.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah? Then what's that?"

He catches Obi-Wan's wrist, turning his hand palm up to inspect it.

"It's not my blood."

"Oh."

He drops Obi-Wan's hand and turns brusquely to walk up to Ventress, standing at the edge of what he must perceive as her personal space, obviously dying to get into the pilot seat.

"Where are we going? I'm taking over."

"Give him the controls."

There isn't one doubt in his mind that Anakin is going to take them where they want. He would have tried to take them down while in the Senate Building if he'd planned on betraying them. He wouldn't have killed those Guards.

It's too late for him to go back.

Ventress gives him a look that is more amused than defiant and then shrugs before getting up, right in the middle of a maneuver that would have send them careening to the ground if Anakin hadn't immediately jumped to straighten their course.

"Force, Ventress!" he shouts. "It's not because you're an _assassin_ that you got to kill us all!"

Said assassin only replies with a laugh, which proves if needed be that she's half mad, because who the fuck wants to die as stupidly, really, when there are dozens of volunteers to grant her an honorable death on the ground?

"Now we can..." Obi-Wan starts, but stops before he can give their new pilot their destination. Anakin isn't taking them away from the Senate! Instead, he flies straight toward the main entry, where they exited the building from. Passing once more over the heads of their enemies while on their right Obi-Wan can see speeders approaching, painted in the dark blue of the Coruscant Security Force. And behind them....

"What in the Force are you doing?"

Maybe riffles can't dent their hull, but starfighters will blow holes through it in only a few minutes.

"Picking up R2?"

"Fuck's sake Anakin! It's  _a droid_!"

Against all odds, they manage to make the stupid thing on board, and to live the Senate's premise just before getting blown up. Of course the fighters are folowing, but Anakin shakes them off in Coruscant's dense traffic as soon as they leave the immediate neighborhood.

"Now... Where to?" Anakin asks as he makes them dodge an oncoming nubian that looks suspiciously like Padmé Amidala's personal ship. 

Though Anakin doesn't react at all to it, so it must be someone else. Someone in a hurry. 

"You can start by getting us out of orbit."

"Yes, Master."

 

* * *

 

"We have found Tano, sir."

"Well better late than never I suppose. Where was she?"

"At Amidala's..."

"You mean no one thought to check Skywalker's wife apartment until now?"

"I'm sorry sir, everyone says that Skywalker has been... That he won't be seeing her again. So we thought..."

"I don't care. Just bring her here. Quick."

 

* * *

 

"Get in that fighter, Padawan. We're going after them."

"What? No! I won't..."

"Are you disobeying orders, Padawan?"

"I..."

"Are you aligning yourself with a Sith Lord and his Apprentice?"

"No! But..."

"Do you want to be a Knight, Tano?"

"Yes, Master Drallig, but..."

"You know, I was thinking of speaking to the rest of the Council in favor of having you bypass the Trials. Force knows you've proven yourself to be capable enough during the past year."

Her eyes widen at the suggestion.

"But ain't I too young to be Knighted? Even my Master..."

"I'm not certain Skywalker is the best role model, Padawan. And in my opinion you've surpassed him by far in many domains. Like your sense of responsibility and duty toward the Order. Surely you don't want anyone to think you're not _loyal_..;" 

 

* * *

 

_"Yes, Master."_

Anakin curses himself as the title slips past his lips,  _again._ He's got to break out of this habit. It's doing nothing good.

_Or maybe it is..._

It seems to please Obi-Wan to be called that way, if the surge of warm satisfaction that comes right at Anakin through their bond is any indication. He isn't getting as much from him as he did while they were apart, Obi-Wan probably guarding his mind more closely now that Anakin has context for the sensations and emotions he's perceiving, so that he can read that one as clearly... It must really content him.

He has thought about this quite a lot, and come to the conclusion that _it is_  in his best interest to keep Obi-Wan content while he works on him. It'll be hard to keep the equilibrium, because harping him to renounce the Dark Side is surely not going to please him,

Maybe giving in on that point will work toward that equilibrium.

 _But it just feels so..._ inappropriate  _now._

It isn't just like respect anymore, nor does it sounds like the way a slave would call his owner, but more like the kind of submission Anakin refuse to think about, just like he refuse to think about the reason Obi-Wan marked his face or the firm grip of his hand on his neck.

_This isn't what "Master" is supposed to mean._

But what’s more important? His pride or his misplaced feelings and desires? His morals or his mission?

_You know the answer to that question. You made a promise._

"Just take the Perlemian Route."

"Aren't we going to back Serenno?" Ventress asks.

"No. I'm tired of that place. I'm sure you are too."

"I  _am,_ actually. i think the only thing I'll miss is the food."

"Oh don't worry, I keep my officers well fed."

"Well then." She points at Anakin, who only catches her movement by chance, too focused on getting out of Coruscant's aerial space without making too much of a fuss to really care about what they're doing. He can't help but be bitter at Obi-Wan and Ventress's apparent familiarity. He's never liked it, even when they were on opposite sides of the war, but now it's even worse. "Try to have your boy behave and... Keep the ship whole while we're in it."

"Hey I don't even crash that often!" he protests.

And a lot of the crash that  _did_  happen while he was flying were actually the fault of a Separatist or another, a group which Ventress is part of - or  _was_  part of? - so really, she shouldn't be allowed to say anything on the matter.

She snickers before walking away. To do what exactly, Anakin doesn't know, and doesn't really care about, as long as it doesn't involve killing someone. He's just a bit surprised that  _she_ doesn't care much about what's going on. But then again, she has been a follower for most of her life. She has accepted Obi-Wan's - or _Melior_ , as she calls him, which Anakin doesn't like, not at all - leadership, and thus she must consider it his responsibility to lead them to safety, once her services aren't specifically required.

"Keep telling you that," Obi-Wan says with a low chuckle, dropping a hand on Anakin's shoulder, and it feels like its weight his anchoring him, both to a time when such a line would have sparked banter and debate and to the present moment, reminding him that this time he's in is not one for friendship and harmless teasing. He'll never recall this day fondly, joking about daring rescues and how he "totally owned that guy" and saved Obi-Wan  _again_ , and how they escaped from the clutches of the Jedi in extremis... 

No, what he'll recall instead is death and darkness, visions of evils and destruction, the blood on Obi-Wan's hands and the smile on his lips as he plunged his blade in a body after another, and how he'd almost got killed a few time because he was too busy staring, sending his assailants flying with the Force at the very last moment.

"Are we going to Korriban?" he asks, his voice morose and resigned. Maybe he agreed to come along on this Darksider cruise, but no one will force him to look happy about setting camp on Sith worlds.

Not that Obi-Wan seems to care a lot about his mood. He just smiles down at him, and Anakin isn't sure if the sight, coupled with his golden Sith eyes, is more disturbing or... Hot.

_I am so fucked._

As if unconsciously responding to his thought, Obi-Wan's grip on his shoulder tightens, and then relax as his Master says, an accent of surprise in his voice:

"You're tense."

He laughs incredulously, and it's a pitiful sound even to his own ears. Well, no shit. There is nothing with the present situation that is in favor of him relaxing. He's on Count Dooku's ship with Asajj Ventress and a fallen Obi-Wan, has killed Temple Guards not even thirty minutes ago, and wants the hand that is currently feeling him up to wander all over his skin far too much to be anything  _but_ tense.

"Still keyed up from the fight..." he mumbles, because he's a coward that won't dare call out his Master on his life decisions nor actually make a move on said Master.

He hears Obi-Wan shift behind him and all of a sudden Anakin is on the receiving hand of a proper massage.

_The Dark Side is sure getting inventive._

"You don't like what's happening," Obi-Wan muses behind him, his voice low and pensive. 

"How could I like it?" He means to throw a quick look at Obi-Wan over his shoulder, trying to convene just how not okay the whole situation is, but he ends up just staring at him and at the smile that is still on his face. Half a year ago he would have call it "soft", but he doubts very much that there anything left to be called soft in Obi-Wan Kenobi. There is this thing hiding behind that smile, maybe, probably the very same thing that shines in his golden eyes. "I  _killed Jedi_ today," he adds finally, turning back to the commands.

Obi-Wan doesn't answer immediately but keeps working on Anakin's back. His fingers digging into muscles in an almost painful way then running his palms over them soothingly. It feels really fucking good.

_Would even be better without clothes..._

"You just have to... Not care. Learn to let go of what holds you back," he says, rubbing at Anakin's spine.

Anakin wasn't expecting that. It's eerily similar to what the Jedi themselves teach, to what Obi-Wan himself has tried to make him learn. 

And Obi-Wan himself must realize it because he chuckles softly and adds: "Let go of your attachment to the Order."

And just as Anakin did so many time in the past, he tries to deny it.

"I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. Of course you are. You're loyal, and you believe in the Jedi's righteousness."

Obi-Wan bends forward over his shoulder, his beard scratching Anakin's jaw.

It's something he's been wondering about for some time now, how it would feel on his skin. It's not an unpleasant sensation, but now all he can think about is testing it out elsewhere. Like his stomach. Or his thighs.

"But they aren't  _good,"_ Obi-Wan says in his ear, in a voice that has no right to be as husky as it is when talking about how it's not that bad to kill Jedi. "So relax, you didn't broke anything that hasn't already been broken by them."

 _"Taking their life surely is different than whatever you think the Order did to them"_ , he wants to say, but he's too distracted by the fact that his collar has come lose at some point and Obi-Wan's fingers are skimming over his collarbones and...

He's so glad he's wearing his Jedi tunics right now, and that they're long enough to cover his crotch, because he can feel himself getting harder by the second...

 _Force..._ He wishes he could just turn around and kiss him.

But there's still no indication that  _Obi-Wan_ wants him, is it? This is just another move in that slow battle of will, the logic prolongation of his plan to drag him to the Dark Side.

He isn't stupid, and he's highly attuned to the Force. This is the Dark Side trying to seduce him, not the man presently kneading at his back muscles. He can feel it, its dark flames liking at his mind and its cold poison seeping into his veins, a drop at a time. It's burning and flowing through their bond, and he can do nothing to stop it, don't really _want_ to stop it.

Anakin doesn't feel like a hero right now. He doesn't feel like a savior. He feels like a prey caught in the jaws of death, and the worse is that he's  _enjoying_ it.

It's playing with his food, but there is no doubt: the Dark Side is wining.

" _Ahh…_ "

_Oh shit that was loud._

Obi-Wan's hands still on his back, that has tensed all over again, and Anakin swears internally.

"Mmh... I think I'm going to catch some sleep. Wake me up when you're tired."

His voice is jovial and his hand slips into Anakin's curls, messing them up playfully as if he hadn't just moaned like an arcanian whore. As if he's still that kid who was missing his mother so much that any scrap of affection had made him smile for hours or worse, that teenager who was so desperate to earn the respect of his Master, who ached every time he would be dismissed and would have died in happiness just to hear that Obi-Wan's sole aspiration was  _to fight at his side._

And it's such a stark difference after the sensuous way he was touching Anakin just a minute earlier, he doesn't even now what to respond, so he just stare at the lightspeed stretched stars beyond the transparisteel of the windshield, trying hard to will away his hard-on or to think about Jedi pyres back on Coruscant.

 _One could think that the latter would facilitate the former_ , he thinks, straightening his clothes and sighing like a holo-drama heroine whose husband has gone to war and who's left alone to die from sadness in her garden.

[You loser,] R2-D2 chimes in from his corner of the cockpit, making Anakin jump in his seat. He'd forgot about the droid's presence, and now he feels mortified that he was there to witness that, whatever  _that_ was.

"Hey! I didn't retrieve you in the middle of a battle to have you insult me!"

[Man up and kick his ass.]

Anakin rolls his eyes.

"Shut up or you're gonna end in scraps."

[As if.]

He points a finger at the astromech.

"You don't know what you're talking about. No one does... Hey! What the fuck is that?!" He stares at the holo recording, Artoo has started playing, as if it would do a Force damned thing. As if that day isn't permanently etched in his brain, in all its painful details. "I deleted this from your memory!"

_Because I couldn't erase it from mine._

_"It's over, Anakin! I have the high ground!"_ Obi-Wan shouts on the holo. 

Anakin didn't listened, and flipped over the river of lava running between them.

Obi-Wan could have struck then, could have cut him in half, or even killed him, he can see that now in the way through the recording. But he hadn't, choosing instead to kick Anakin in the chest as he had landed, making him fall backward and onto the black gravel of the bank. That's when he had disarmed him, with another kick, this time to his hand. His lightsaber had fell down the slope that had granted Obi-Wan his advantage, and fell into into a lava pool.

That's when Artoo choose to freeze the recording, with Obi-Wan standing ominously over Anakin, crimson lightsaber still ignited.

Anakin is about to protest, say that what happened then wasn't as bad as this makes it look, but he has to swallow his words when he remembers what happened  _then_. He rubs at his scar in what is now an automatic gesture.

 _You were wrong_ , he says to Obi-Wan in his head. And if he can feel his sleep being disturbed through their bond, well good, because Force knows he has made Anakin's nights less than peaceful over the last months.  _It's not Padmé who sees you when she look at me. She hasn't seen him enough for it to matter anyway_.

_But me? I can't avoid all the mirrors, and when I see myself, I only see you pining me down._

 

* * *

 

“Can I see it?”

Anakin looks down at his lap, where his lightsaber is resting. He’s been fiddling with it for half an hour now, sitting down on his bunk… Or  _bed_ , rather. There’s nothing military about this ship’s cabins, and he feels out of place in its luxury. Sure, he’s grown used to wealth and comfortable furniture during his time with Padmé. But even that has been somewhat changed by the his round with the Judgement Circle and the bed feels too soft under his back when he lies down, and the pristine interior seems too bright to his eyes  _and who needs gilded light fixtures on a spaceship anyway?_ He has some trouble believing Dooku has been a Jedi once, apprentice of Yoda himself and Master of Qui-Gon Jinn. There doesn't seem to be much similarities in the way they led their lives.

He hasn't slept much after Ventress came out her own cabin and chased him from the cockpit, maybe an hour and a half. He's been dreaming a lot lately, nothing he can really recall, but it leaves him with a feeling of unrest and anxiety at the idea of going to sleep.

That and just knowing Obi-Wan is on the same ship as himself... After so long, and without having him just there, he has trouble believing it, even though their bond has that particular flavor that comes with physical proximity. He woke up with the urgent need to see him, to touch him, make sure he's really here and not some Dark Side illusion.

Obviously he had stayed there, alternating between trying to meditate and cursing himself mentally over how fucking needy he is. 

And now, here is Obi-Wan, standing on the threshold of his cabin, as if conjured by his thought. 

He nods and Obi-Wan sits down cross legged in front of him after kicking of his boots, their knees touching, as they’ve done countless of time in the past, during lessons, or to meditate, or just to talk.

Anakin lets out a sigh as the familiar scene sets. He has missed this. So much. Not only during those months of running after his Master, but also before that, when they’d been too busy to just take the time, and Anakin had been too proud to admit that he needed it.

He’d been so eager to be knighted, too arrogant to realize just how fucking lost he’d be when finally left on his own. To enamored with his queen to admit how much he craved his Master attention...

 _"You can't be in love with two persons"_ , he had told himself as he was being tied to a stone pole in the middle of a geonosian arena, trying to decipher what it was he was feeling when he'd seen his Master there, alive and exasperated. No, this wasn't the same thing he'd just felt while kissing Padmé. That couldn't be. 

And that had been it. He had buried his feelings for Obi-Wan and had dived right into a relationship with Padmé. Had married her, choosing to defy the Masters with her rather than try his luck with the only person in the galaxy that seemed more unreachable. 

It seems so stupid now, what seemed had the time such a big deal now nothing more than a teenage crush in his mind. 

_You had a teenage crush on Obi-Wan, too. Would you call that stupid?_

Stupid? Yes, definitively. But for entirely different reasons. 

But this is not a crush anymore. It's something much more complex and headache inducing. 

_But I won over Padmé... A queen. A senator. She chose me. She wasn't that unreachable in the end._

And Obi-Wan doesn't seem like he is either, right now. On the contrary, he seems too close for Anakin to bear when he knows he can't give in, not unless he wants to give in to the Dark Side too, or reveal his hand to soon.

For the first time in a long time, he doesn't even feel like a Sith. He doesn't look like a man who has killed dozens of innocents, and people he has once counted as his brothers and sisters, his peers among the Order. No, he feels almost like he has always felt in the Force, a calming, reassuring presence, filling up Anakin's world until the galaxy outside of the cabin could have as well vanished. Even if he tried he doubts that in that moment he could sense anything outside of this cabin, because all Anakin's sense register is the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, that same smell that he's been conjuring in his mind after a certain cloak was left behind at the Temple when he left for Christophsis, the blue of his eyes…

_Blue?_

Obi-Wan chooses this moment to bow his head, looking down at Anakin's lightsaber, and whatever color his eyes truly are right now Anakin can't tell anymore, as the dim light coming from the gilded lamps doesn't reach them anymore. 

He starts by simply picking it up, turning it in his hands, running his fingers over the synthleather padding the center of the handle then, humming appreciatively, lets go of it so it floats at eye level in between them. Slowly the weapon comes apart, pieces floating away until the crystal making up its core is exposed and they’re basking in red light.

Obi-Wan looks back at him and his eyes are molten lava.

“Good work, my apprentice,” he says with a smile that makes Anakin swallow loudly. “And what a beautiful Kyber you found yourself. It sings in the Force so powerfully, it’s a wonder no-one made inquiries about it.” He pauses and smiles pensively. “Then again when  _you_ are standing next to it… It’s almost unnoticeable.”

“The burden of the greats,” Anakin jokes, “spotlights latch onto us naturally.”

He laughs to hide the horror that uncurled inside of him. That crystal doesn’t  _sing_. It screams and cries, his lament a constant reminder that he took it by force, chained it to his will and turned into an eternally bleeding wound. True, it does make a certain song… But the kind you can hear at a funeral or in torture chambers rather than at a festival. It makes Anakin want to curl up in a corner and cry, or stand up and fight. Fight anyone. Everyone.

He doesn’t say anything about it, though, because the meaning behind Obi-Wan’s words is clear. The crystal sings with the voice of the Dark Side, and to a Sith it must be a pleasant song.

“Did you know this was going to happen?” he asks instead.

“Now, but I guessed.”

“You  _guessed_.”

“Do you think I’m lying? Why would I?”

As if Anakin has any idea of why Obi-Wan does anything those days. Except "because he's a Sith", that is.

“If you did something...”

“I didn’t do anything.  _You_ did.”

Anakin frowns.

“What are you talking about?”

“You strengthened our bond, when I was trying to… Keep away. In order to avoid something just like that.”

It's true that he did, at first. And it nearly broke Anakin, his absence, the gaping wound where they bond used to be, void being the only answer as he reached out. Remembering that time makes Anakin angry. What made Obi-Wan think he would be better off without him? 

“Aren’t you glad it happened?” Anakin asks bitterly as he thinks about how Obi-Wan has been trying to bring him to the Dark Side.

But maybe he shouldn't be surprised by the contradiction. Maybe Obi-Wan was the one who was better off without Anakin. Maybe seducing Anakin is really something that is forced upon him. Maybe he the Dark Side _is_ that strong.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t. Be glad. And I think I was right. You don’t like it.”

Anakin laughs incredulously.

“I can’t see why I would like having a cursed crystal...” He sigh. “You shouldn’t think like that, you know. You should have done it because it was wrong to… Pass along the Dark Side.” Obi-Wan chuckles at the wording and Anakin’s stomach twist in knots, though he’s not sure if it’s because of the sound or because Obi-Wan is laughing at the idea of corrupting him. “Not because you thought  _I_ would think it was wrong.”

“I’ve done a lot of things I didn’t believed in for your sake before. It has never been a problem.”

“Like what?”

It’s hard to not make the question seem to eager, that revelation hitting a little bit too close to some of Anakin’s fantasies.

_You’re pathetic. Just because he does things for you doesn’t mean there’s a deeper meaning to it than the affection of a Master for his Padawan…_

That or it’s another pretense.

“To many to tell, I think, but mainly?" He seeks out Anakin's eyes, only talking when they're looking at each other, as if he's trying to convene something he won't say out loud. "Pretend that the Code was the best way to live by.”

“For Force’s sake…” He wants to joke about it, say something like “so we could have ignored it the whole time?” but if there is something Obi-Wan has managed to teach him, is that the Code is there for reason, like it or not. Without it, there aren’t better than the Sith. “Don’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth. Would you prefer me to lie to you? Pretend that I want to go back to the way I was before?”

“But why wouldn’t you?"  _Why can't you see that it's the right thing to do?_ "What happened? What changed?”

“You know what happened.”

“No I don’t.”

“That’s because you didn’t listen.”

He makes a hand gesture, that Anakin suspect is more for show than actual necessity, and the lightsaber parts come back together. It's like watching a star collapse on itself, the light of the exposed crystal dying as it gets covered by layers of metal.

"Then tell me again."

He finally hands Anakin’s lightsaber’s back.

"No. You have all the pieces, my apprentice. It's your job to make them a whole."

_Force, he's so frustrating!_

Anakin takes the proffered weapon and puts it aside on the bed. He knows he must be pouting like a child, he can see it in the way Obi-Wan smiles at him, just in the same way he does when Anakin does something stupid. He looks down at their knees so as to not see it, and tries to compose himself.

“Can I see yours?”

The request passes his lips before he can really think it over, and he can feel himself blush under Obi-Wan’s stare, a heavy weight he can’t seem to shake off even when his Master has turned away to retrieve his saber.

He has seen it in action, has fought Obi-Wan as he wielded it, but he hasn’t touched it, hasn’t had the occasion to examine it up close. It’s an elegant weapon, the handle made of black durasteel, the cut of the intricate parts simple but clever enough that they don't need any coverage to feel smooth under his hands.

"Trying to make a statement here?"

Obi-Wan chuckles, his hand brushing over the dark fabric covering his left thigh. The gesture looks almost unconscious, but is clearly made to draw Anakin's attention. 

_To the fact hat he wears black. Nothing else. No he doesn't have nice thighs, shut the fuck up Skywalker._

"And yet some people seem to have trouble understanding."

It hasn't seen much combat yet, if Anakin hasn't missed anything major. There's Mustafar, and there's Baskara, and a few corpses left between the two. And there's the previous day. Maybe some training, because he knows Obi-Wan likes to practice his forms regularly, even though he used to pretend that the  _mindset_ mattered more than the state of his body, that if one was one with the Force, it didn't really mattered if he had a year or ten of training. And he doubts that he has spent all his time with Dooku and Ventress meditating...

He doesn't take it apart. It isn't his place, to review his Master's work. He just admires the finished product, weight it in is palm, runs his fingers over the still pristine material.

He peeks up at Obi-Wan and has to immediately look back down at his hands.

_Don't look at me like that. This is not fair._

Then again this is a war they're engaged in. And fairness doesn't belong in war. Even when it's a cosmic one.

“How did you get it? The crystal, I mean. I almost died in there, and I’m not even... I'm not  _fallen_.”

It's harder to say than it should be. Both because he doesn't want to come across as if he's thinking himself to be better than Obi-Wan because he's hasn't strayed -  _and that is so untrue, he's always been better than me, I just need to remind him_ \- and because, though he  _knows_ he isn't, well, he's not exactly untouched by the Dark Side either.

“And that's why I wasn't hurt by the Light Side. I was a stranger in the caves. You were an... Infected part," Obi-Wan says with a roll of the eyes, as if the Force was just being difficult. "Right now, in some ways… I’m stronger than you. Not in sheer power, of course, you're still, well,  _you_. But in this case, I think I'm still ahead of you, my apprentice. My will cannot be bent. I’ve made my choices, and there is no turning back." He brusquely gets up, and his lightsaber jumps out of Anakin’s hand. “You should make yours.”

 

* * *

 

The five starfighters that follow them out of hyperspace bear the mark of the Order on their hulls.

“Fuck,” Anakin swears. “They must have put a tracker on us before we managed to escape.”

He’s back in the pilot seat, with Obi-Wan on his right and Ventress to his left. He’s still not used to the assassin’s presence. At least not to her being there without any fight to the death breaking out.

She does look murderous right now, but it’s directed toward the Jedi pursuing them.

Anakin isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or not.

On one hand, she’s a precious ally in battle, on the other, he would appreciate it if the day could end without any more death.

“And here’s our ride.” Obi-Wan points at the destroyer looming over the curve of Euceron.

The planet is about halfway from their destination, and Obi-Wan seems to have decided that it's a good point to jump ship and get on something more... Martial? Spacious? Anakin isn't sure, but getting back on a destroyer is a nice idea to him too. 

Too bad two of the fighters just manage to get between their ship and what Obi-Wan has informed them was the _Victus_. 

"Alright," Anakin murmurs, trying to ignore the way his hand shake has he puts his thumb on the trigger that will send death to visit one of them.

He can't fire immediately though, as one of the two fighters flies straight at him, as if it's pilot has a death wish, wanting the two ships to collide and take them all down.

They start a game a of cat and mouse, where both are alternatively the cat and the mouse, spinning and diving and rushing too low over dangerously barbed rocks, that would tear open the hulls of their ships if not for their shields.

Somehow he ends up facing the other fighter that was blocking his path a bit earlier, and this time, he takes his shot, blowing up the starfighter and the Jedi inside of it. He can't help himself: he whoops as his shot finds his target, the euphoria that comes from flying dangerously and _exploding things_ too strong to be ruined by the inaudible scream that echoes in the Force as the woman dies.     

 

* * *

 

Smoke and burning debris fall back as they fly on, only to leave their place to the starfighter Anakin has been dueling against those last minutes in an exhibition of stupidly dangerous but absolutely brilliant flying, coming from under them and flying so close that they get a glimpse of the pilot.

It's Ahsoka.

The sound of distress that escapes Anakin's mouth makes Obi-Wan want to blow up the whole planet they're flying over. Not that Euceron has done anything to him, but the black hole inside of him, that feeds upon destruction and seem to appreciate Anakin's suffering just as much as Obi-Wan does, has opened wide enough to swallow it all. Right now that planet killing super-weapon he dreamed about weeks ago would surely help him relieve his murderous urges. Too bad he has found nothing concrete about it. 

"No! What is she doing here?!"

"Doing her job, Anakin." His voice is tense with the effort he makes to not call her a traitor. A liar. A two faced bitch... No, she's only a Padawan. "It's unlikely she had any choice in her assignation."

"Do we really have to get to that destroyer? We can go to Korriban with this ship."

"No."

No, as much as he's willing to give Ahsoka the benefit of the doubt, he won't let her influence Anakin. This is a war. Between them and the rest of the galaxy. If he doesn't even dare get on his own ship, where his army is awaiting him, just because of a teenager standing in between... He can't let her do that him.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"But..."

"Do you know where the tracker is? I don't. So it's in our best interest to ditch this ride as soon as possible."

"She's fucking shooting at us!"

She is indeed. Blue bolts of plasma fly around them, and Anakin has to slalom so that their shield don't have to withstand to much of it.

"Well, what did you think she was going to do?!"

"At  _us_!" he repeats, outraged. 

 "Your Padawan has more guts than I thought," Ventress declares, a note of admiration in her voice. "Shooting at her own Master..."

"Yeah, yeah, she's awesome like that," Anakin grumbles. "Can't we contact her?"

"I don't fucking know Anakin, why would you do that?"

He doesn't reply immediately as one of the fighters that was tailing them until now grows bold and pulls on a maneuver that brings it just in range of their guns.

A second later it gets blown out of the sky and Anakin laughs, the first true laugh Obi-Wan hears from him in half a year. Force, he has missed that sound. 

It doesn't last long, though, ending on a strangled sound that tells Obi-Wan that Anakin just remembered who it was that he has just killed. 

"I don't know," he replies finally, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just want to know what she's doing here. She knows that..."

He throws a side away glance to Obi-Wan, and what he doesn't want to say is made plain as day. She knows what Anakin has planned, whatever it is, however he will try to maneuver him. 

They take a nosedive and Obi-Wan has to grab Anakin's shoulder to stay standing. 

It's exhilarating, this mad chase above the euceronian wasteland, the flashes of laser beams hilighting the interior of the ship through the windshield, the feeling of lessened gravity as Anakin drive them one way and then another to avoid collision or shots. Obi-Wan realizes with a thrill that he's finally able to enjoy Anakin's way of flying now that he'd gotten rid of all that nonsense about not seeking danger and adrenaline clouding your judgment, eyeroll, also respect the locals codes of flight kids. He had been anticipating such a fight for months, wondering how he would feel putting once more his life in the hands of the flying maniac he'd fallen in love with, knowing that they could crash at any moment...

Oh, of course Anakin was too good to _really_ crash. No, those were "delicate landings", the pilot usually maintaining just enough control for them to not just plummet to their death. It made for good jokes, and even better banter, but the truth was that anyone else than Anakin would have died a thousand time if they were to pull stunts like that. 

And knowing it makes this experience a thousand time more fun than the much less risked way he flies himself. 

"Don't you have your own comm anyway?" he asks during a brief respite, as they fly straight and steady through a ravine.  

"No! I got rid of it before meeting you! Do you think I'm stupid? I know those are chipped!"

"No, dear one, I do't think you're stupid. Just that you more often think with you're lightsaber than with your brain," he jokes, poking at Anakin's head. 

Anakin blushes and Ventress snickers. 

"Not that it matters in the end," Anakin mumbles. "They still tracked us... And here they come again."

The next two minutes are spent in silence - on the inside of the ship, that is. Outside it endless explosions and stones crashing as they fly through ravines and canyons. But it seems that Anakin's brain hasn't been only focusing on keeping them alive, but has also been working on a solution to his communication problem.  

"I'm going to use Artoo's comm system!" he declares suddenly as they've come out into flat, open land again, and with no one on their tail. For now. They still have that damned tracker on. "I can rewire it so he can catch her starfighter's comm frequency. His accreditation should still be valid..." 

"Is it really necessary?"

"I have to tell her to stand down! She has to know everything is under control!"

Obi-Wan bursts out in laughter, owning himself an affronted glare from Anakin. 

"Take the commands," his apprentice orders him, and Obi-Wan is left to stare at him stupidly. 

_This shouldn't be hot..._

"I'll do it," Ventress says. "I've seen you fly, Melior. I don't think I want you to be our pilot right now."

"Hey, he's actually good!" Anakin interjects with a raised finger and another murderous glare, this one directed at the assassin. "He just doesn't want people to think he's a risk taker. Which he is," he adds with a half smile as he kneels before R2-D2, whose been silently sitting in his corner of the cockpit since they left Coruscant. Truth to be told, Obi-Wan had even forgotten about its presence. It's not often that the droid is this quiet, and he wonders if it's because hes disapproving of the situation. Of Obi-Wan himself...

_Who cares? It's just a tincan. That beeps. And electrocutes. And calls elevators. But it's not like it has actual feelings to be hurt._

Ventress takes them out of the ravine with a spin, two starfighters on their trail. 

"You can shoot at them if you want," she drawls, trying to sound casual, but Obi-Wan knows she actually wants to concentrate on flying. he takes the copilot seat without a word though, and starts shooting. It's not her fault that she isn't as good as Anakin. Those who are can probably be counted on one hand.

"Okay Artoo, your long range communicator is enabled. Now call Ahsoka Ta...."

He never finishes giving his command though, as their shield finally gives up, and enemy fire makes it way through it blowing away the entire right side of the ship, and Anakin and his droid with it.

"NO!"

 

* * *

 

 

"Go. Back!"

Oi-Wan is standing behind Ventress, his blade dangerously close to her neck. She hasn't stopped their course, keeping it up even though Obi-Wan has ordered her tp turn around already. He didn't want to come to this, because he wish their alliance to stay a voluntary thing, and to minimize any bad blood between them, but she's not leaving him any choice. She'll turn around, or her head is going to roll on the floor and he'll fly this smoking wreck over the wasteland himself, as long as it will take to find his apprentice.

"Face it, Melior. He's dead. There's nothing left where he was standing. Just a whole lot of hair. And even if he survived the explosion..."

"Don't you think I would know if he was dead? He's fucking alive and we're not leaving this fucking planet without him!"

They're alone in the sky, the Jedi having abandoned - why, after they successfully pierced their defense? The logical thing to do would have been to just fire again. Not like they would have been able to avoid anymore shot why how badly their ship is damaged. it's a miracle they're still flying.

Ventress sighs, and turns the ship around.

"Your destroyer is that way, right?"

There's smoke on the horizon, in the same direction they've come from, where the bond that ties him to Anakin tells him he's going to find his apprentice.

"Stop. He's here."

"I'm not sure the ship will take off again."

"I don't care. We won't need it when. My ship is on its way."

The origin of the smoke is a starfighter, its nose buried in the ground where it crashed, the cockpit open and hanging from it, the dead body of Cin Drallig, Battlemaster of the Order. There's a still smoking hole in the middle of his chest.

Their landing is... Not very smooth. But in Obi-Wan's opinion, it's already a marvel that they've manage to go this far with a fourth of the ship missing. 

"Go to my cabin," he orders to Ventress before going outside. "There's a chest there. Bring it out. The _Victus_ will be there soon."

The assassin purses her lips, clearly disliking the way he's sending her on this errand. 

She'll get used to obey me. She's already starting to. 

The chest holds the holocron he acquired a few months back, along with a ancient Sith texts, personal notes, clothes...

And Obi-Wan's lightsaber. His blue bladed lightsaber.

He isn't sure why he kept it, exactly. Or why he didn't turn the crystal powering it to the Dark. It would have been easy, the Kyber was attuned to him, and would have taken very little effort to be converted to suit him once more. 

Maybe some part of him didn't want to bury his past so deep, in the end. It wasn't all that bad. Anakin was part of it, after all. And other people too, but mostly Anakin. And this lightsaber had been the instrument by with Obi-Wan had kept them alive, too many time to count.  

or maybe he had just wanted something new and fancy. He had always liked nice things, though like in many other domains, he hadn't let himself own much. And his new lightsaber is a very nice thing indeed, its somber elegance the final touch to that new Obi-Wan that emerged from the Senate Chambers, was reinforced by the siring fires of Mustafar, and polished by the under

He jumps out of the ship thorough the hole Anakin was sucked though and joins his apprentice where he's kneeling, a short distance away from the fighter, already covered in the orange dust that seems to be the main feature of this area. 

Ignoring whatever he's doing with the droid, Obi-Wan grabs him by the back of his tunics and turns him around, too anxious to assert his physical condition to wait for him to get up and face him by his own. He's greeted by wide blue eyes, popping out under soot darkened hair and stained skin, but they don't hold his owns for very long, because there is much more concerning things going on than how he wants to look in those eyes as he thrust inside the lean, long body 

A shallow cut on the bridge of his nose, and a bloody bruise on his left cheek. Obi-Wan catches him by the chin, angling his face toward the sunlight to get a better view.  _Shit._ That doesn't look pretty, nor clean. What did Anakin do? Rub his face all over the ground?  

"Was it Drallig?"

He's going to murder his ass all over again. He doesn't know how yet, but he's going to bring him back, and kill him, slowly, painful....

"No! I just... Fell face first," he admits, blushing as Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow at him, half amused, half exasperated. Never mind Drallig, he's half of a ind of killing Anakin right now so he spares himself the headache. _I'll probably have to kill myself, then_. "I'm fine. Nothing broken. I was able to slow my fall. But..."

His voice and their bond takes on the peculiar darkness that comes from sorrow, and he nods sadly toward another smoking hole, that one in the side of the blue and white astromech that has followed Anakin everywhere for five years.

Even with his limited knowledge of mechanics, Obi-Wan can see the thing is toasted. But Anakin has his hands buried inside of it, still, pulling out pieces Obi-Wan isn't sure are supposed to be - or have been - discarding some, keeping others. He doesn't look very hopeful though, and the later pile is far smaller that the second.

 _Good riddance,_ Obi-Wan thinks, toeing at the scattered scraps

It's one less things that ties Anakin to Amidala. The droid came from Theed's palace, and had been on the fighter Anakin had used to put a dent in the Trade Federation's blockade.

He'll buy Anakin some fancy new datapad. That should be just as useful as that droid was.

_Minus the capacity for electrocution, maybe._

"We should burn him."

_Could a datapad be enhanced with an electro-shock prod?_

"Why? Did you left some compromising information in his circuits again?"

Aanakin's face and thoughts are half indignant, half guilty, informing Obi-Wan that he probably did, but he shouldn't have suggested it.

"No! That's not it! I just... We've been through so much together... I owe him that."

"What, you want to give a Jedi funeral to your _astromech_?"

"What's wrong with that? Not like there's any Jedi around to take offense."

_Oh, baby, that's so fucking right. No Jedi here. Just us._

_... and Ventress, I guess._

But the Jedi will soon arrive. He's actually surprised Ahsoka and the pilot of the other starfighter aren't already there. They were close enough when Anakin went down... He's almost certain it was Anakin's Padawan who took the shot that blew up open their ship.

_Where did they went?_

"What's wrong is that we still have two fighters after us, and we now have a big fucking hole in our ship so..."

"But..." Anakin trails,

Obi-Wan swears. Why does Anakin have to make that face? He can just  _say no_ to him when he looks so gutted.

But he can change his mood.

Make him focus his attention back to Obi-Wan.

Anakin wants to burn his stupid droid? Well he's going to get a full ceremony.

The _Victus_  appears in under a minute, a durasteel cloud over the horizon. The destroyers lower itself to the ground, it's right side a hundred meters away from where they're standing, raising a storm of dust under its giant body. Well, Obi-Wan is standing. Anakin has went back to trying to salvage parts of his destroyed astromech, sitting in the dust as if he's still a slave child on Tatooine, sorting out scraps for some toydarian scum instead of one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy.

It makes Obi-Wan furious, seeing him like that, though his anger is not toward Anakin himself, but rather for all the people who have dared make him feel like he was less than exceptional, something to be used and abused and then discarded. He wishes he could find them all, and rid the galaxy of their presence once and for all.

After some time spent suffering, that is. 

Silently, he orders two battalions to come out and stand around the wreckage. No one pays any attention to the dead Jedi hanging from his crashed fighter, nor do they seem to really care about what they're doing there, actually. They have been given instructions, and that's all that matters.

"What are we doing?" 

"You wanted to give your pet droid funerals? We're having a funeral. Get up."

Anakin obeys, legs shaking as he does so. Did he got more injured in his fall than is visible on a single glance? Or is he just generally shaken up? Obi-Wan frowns as he considers him. He looks tired, and his mind is a constant, low buzzing against his Master's senses, a static that both says that Anakin is not alright and keeps him from going deeper and find out what exactly is not alright.

 _It will pass. Whatever it is, he'll soon forget about it_. 

Obi-Wan is going to take care of him. Once he let the Dark Side in, he won't worry anymore, and with Obi-Wan leading him, he won't even need to worry. And they're going to be fine, together. They'll be powerful enough that their enemies won't dare come close enough to hurt them, and so fucking perfect together that Anakin won't want for anything outside of them. 

A clone comes back from Drallig's fallen starfighter, a canister in hand. He empties its contents, toxic green malastarian fuel, onto the remains of the droid, Anakin having just enough time to pick up the pieces he intended to keep before they too are covered in the highly flammable liquid. 

He looks so out of it for a second that Obi-Wan is about to call the whole thing off, but _it's just a droid, for Force's sake_ , and as if hearing his thoughts, Anakin straightens in a visible effort to get a hold of himself and walks up to the front row of their little assembly. 

None of the soldiers look like they're attending a funeral. Their mind currently overcome by Obi-Wan's order, they can't even commiserate for their beloved general. But they aren't here for that, or even just for show. Obi-Wan doesn't want them to get caught unaware once again, and they would all make a shield of their bodies before either Anakin or Obi-Wan gets as much as grazed by a blaster shot.

Obi-Wan clears his throat, takes a step forward and declares in the most pompous way possible:

"Farewell, Artoo, best of astromechs, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won't forget. Though your body is destroyed, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, holonet places of your backup data. May your many compatriots take heart in your example and your sentient friends find solace for the loss they have sustained."

Anakin throws him an incredulous and pained look and Obi-Wan grins at him before remembering to look saddened. He must make a poor job of it because Anakin frowns and turns away, their shoulders collide when Anakin passes him by. It's clearly intentional, full of aggressiveness and it makes Obi-Wan weirdly happy.

"Asshole," Anakin mutters before disappearing into the destroyer, the salvaged pieces of his astromech held tight against his chest.

"Hey!" Obi-Wan shouts after him. "I want to see you in the medbay when I get inside!"

No fucking way he's walking around with that dirty wound all day long. If he wants to leave Obi-Wan, he's certainly not doing it by dying of an infection, his face rotting and falling off or something equally disgusting and depressing.

"You two have so many issues," Ventress snickers before following, two clones holding the chest she took out of Dooku's ship. "This is either going to be a lot of fun or a total disaster."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *points at Icse* it's all her fault. She convinced me that the best way to stop forgetting about R2 was to get rid of him, and the idea was too good to pass up :D She also adapted Slughorn's speech from HBP.
> 
> Man, Obi-Wan does swear a lot. Guess that's part of the Dark Side's liberating effect :D


	19. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Missed me?"

"I'm not certain Skywalker is the best role model, Padawan. And in my opinion you've surpassed him by far in many domains. Like your sense of responsibility and duty toward the Order. Surely you don't want anyone to think you're not loyal..."

Ahsoka has some trouble keeping her calm when she hears this. _Not loyal?_ Her? How dare he?! When she spent half of the past year doing a Master's job, leading the Oh So Great Army of the Republic, something no one else had been willing to do. While the Council had kept hidden in its tower, she'd been on the battlefiled, defending the Republic's territory.

She wants to tell Drallig about Anakin's plan... That he's still intent on turning Obi-Wan back to the Light, that is, not the seduction part. _Yeah, I'm not going to tell anyone about that._ That her Master isn't a traitor. That he's still loyal... _Just a bit less to the Order than to his own Master._ That he'll be the instrument to getting back the fleet. That they have to let him do his thing. That he'll succeed, because that's who he is. He's the Hero Without Fear. He's the Chosen One.

But she knows the Battlemaster won't believe her. That any more word in favor of her Master will mark her as a traitor alongside Anakin and Obi-Wan.

On her left, Padmé's nubian is landing on the esplanade and the Senator comes out, ample robes billowing around her and making her look like some pissed off sea creature.

She stops as she notices the first corpse and looks around her, paling at the carnage left behind by her husband and his Master... And Ahsoka can see it on her face. She knows they're responsible. Or at least Obi-Wan is. 

"Ahsoka! Where is Anakin?" she asks she arrives in front of them.

"You can't be here, Senator!" Drallig growls at her. "It isn't safe, and the Council..."

"Oh, screw the Council!" Padmé cuts him off sharply. "Tell me where my husband is!"

"He's gone, Padmé," Ahsoka tells her, putting a - she hopes - comforting hand on her arm. "He's got a mission, remember? Nothing that happened here is going to change that."

"But..." 

"I have to go."

She nods at the Battlemaster and follows him where two fighters are awaiting for them.

 

* * *

 

  
Anakin is a much better pilot than she is, and she struggles to keep up with him... Though not as much as she would have thought.

He's hasn't been at his best, those last months. She blames the lack of sleep.

She has caught him more than once standing watch over their camp at night, brooding in some dark corner of their ship or just staring through the main bridge's viewing bay, in a meditating position - though she knows he wasn't meditating - feet held apart, hands behind behind his back and eyes lost in the immensity of space.

Their training bond - a frail, dwindling one but still enough for her to sense his moods and primal thoughts - had told her he was searching for something, listening in the Force, and her brain had made the rest of the work. He was waiting for Obi-Wan to come to him, and there was nothing else he could focus on. 

Now the recklessness, the lack if attention, the changing moods... It all makes sense. He and Obi-Wan...

That thing between them is the perfect example of why attachment is forbidden to Jedi, she's starting to realize. _They would let the galaxy burn rather than letting go of each other_.

And as her shot finds its target and Anakin plummets to the ground, and it feels like her heart stops in her chest until she sees him moving on the ground, she wonders what _she_ would do to keep them safe.

She gets her answer when Cin Drallig's fighter emerges from a cloud of dust, going straight for her Master and - _is that Artoo, oh Force... Skyguy, I'm so sorry..._

 _If I have to be a traitor..._ She shoots at the starfighter.

_Let it be to those that would betray me._

 

* * *

 

It's easy enough to find a bay that looks down on the crash site. Every stardestroyer is built on a single model, according to its class, and after years of travelling the galaxy on board of those ships, Anakin could navigate them eyes closed. That's what he does, actually, closing his eyes, when he can't stare longer at the green flames that lick the carcass of one of his oldest friends, melting what's rest of his insides and darkening the formerly white and blue shell that used to protect wires and circuits.

He presses his forehead against the cool transparisteel surface, then the left side of his face, wincing at the pressure against his bruise and cut. He's half of a mind of skipping the medbay. Right now he just wants to crawl up in a bed and sleep for an entire cycle.

But Obi-Wan said...

_Fuck Obi-Wan! I won't take orders from a Sith, even less so from one who takes pleasure in my misery._

_Except you don't even know how not to take orders from him, do you? No anymore._ He'd taken pride in his disobedience - oh, not that first year spent at the Temple, no, he'd been too eager to please his new Master then, and to be accepted into this foreign community with its oh so strange customs, but later, when he'd settled in and grown more confidant - during his teenage years, taking off in the middle of the night so he could participate in various types of races, skipping lessons he'd grown bored off, rushing into danger when his Master would advise him caution, spouting insolent retorts every occasion he had... But somehow he has been tamed. 

Without him noticing, he had learned to comply without question, and he'd been so eager to obey, too, as if proving to Obi-Wan his devotion could have brought him the love he craved so much in exchange. 

Just the day before, a few words had pushed him over the edge, convincing him to take the life of Count Dooku... And as much as he wants to believe it came from him, from his desire to avenge his mother, to protect the Republic... Really it had been Obi-Wan's voice, his whispered words and the dizzying feel of him in the Force, that had broken him free of the imperatives of the Code, just for a few minutes, but enough for him to unleash death upon a disarmed man. 

He punches the transparisteel in front of him with his left hand, the one that's still made of flesh and bones, and the pain that surges from his knuckles is a dark counterpoint to the guilt, a small punishment for his infraction to rules he should held more valuable than his feelings and desires. It's a pain that he deserves for not being half the Jedi he should be.

So he does it again. And again, putting more force behind his hit every time, until his knuckles split open and a crack appears in the transparisteel.

"Fuck." That's not good. Not safe at all. Damned Jedi strength. And damned Force, that can't even let him self destruct without having him damage the world around him.

This can be a problem once they're out of the atmosphere. The transparisteel can break under the pressure. Suck them all into space.

_Maybe it would be best, then the galaxy would be safe from Darth Melior and his apprentice._

There's no point in denying it: for all that Obi-Wan has held back until now, Anakin knows his appetites will grow, and then he won't hold back anymore. He can talk all he wants about wanting to serve, but Force knows he has seldom said more blatant lie.  

And Anakin knows he's not going to do much to stop him, if this situation lasts for too long. He isn't strong enough to resist much longer to the appeal of the Dark Side, when it disguises itself as the man he would give his life for.  

Sighing deeply, he signals the first Clone he sees and tells him to get someone to at least check that the integrity of the ship isn't menaced. Then makes his way to the medbay. 

Finding Kix there somewhat cheers him up. He hasn't seen him in a long time, and having a familiar face - he almost laughs at the though of a Clone's face being more familiar than another. Almost - around makes things a bit easier. As if things haven't changed. 

"Could have used your lightsaber rather than your face, General," the medic says, grinning at him and starting to pick the supplies he'll need to patch him up.

"But then I wouldn't have had a reason to come see you, Kix," Anakin replies, sitting on a cot and grimacing at the dusty red stains he makes on the white sheets. That'll come out easily enough, he supposes, but still, he was raised better than this. He carefully sets aside the pile of droid pieces that are all that is rest of Artoo. He'll find a use for them. His friend will live on, in a different form or maybe in several ones, but he's determined to re-use them in some way.

Obi-Wan enters the medbay less than a minute later and, stopping a few feet away from them, glares at Kix for a few seconds before the clone puts down the supplies he was taking up to Anakin and leaves without a word.

He then comes to stand in front of Anakin, looking him up and down in a way that makes the young man squirm where he sits, and then drop his how gaze to his feet when the keeps on staring. 

"You're a fucking mess," Obi-Wan comments matter-of-factly. It makes Anakin look up and glare at him.

"Thanks, I worked hard on that look."

He makes a displeased sound as he notices Anakin's hand, taking it in his and running a finger over the bloody knuckles. Anakin hisses, and Obi-Wan throws him a dirty look. 

"This wasn't here five minutes ago." 

"I had nothing to punch five minutes ago." 

_Except your face._

Anakin is fully expecting some sermon about checking his anger and controlling his feeling but nothing comes, so he looks up at Obi-Wan, barely catching a smile of satisfaction before it disappear.

_Oh that right. The Dark Side feeds on anger..._

He sighs, all combativeness gone as he's reminded of how screwed up the situation is. Obi-Wan making fun of his feelings isn't the worse thing that could happen. It's actually pretty innocent, given how he started his journey into the Dark Side. 

Anakin shivers at the memories of those visions he had of the Senate Massacre, and has to make a conscious effort to chase them away.

He'd been so angry against him just minutes before, but now he just wants to curl up in his arms and just thinking of what he has done... It's making him feel nauseous.

_But haven't you done the same? That night in Tatooine?_

He shrugs the thought off. He doesn't want to think about this. Doesn't want to feel the guilt that comes with knowing he did this to the wrong people. He wants...

He wants to feel safe, and loved. he hasn't had a lot of that lately. Or since his mother died, actually. 

_Don't forget about Padmé..._

Except he does. He keeps forgetting. What it felt to be with her. And it doesn't bother him as much as it did at first. What bothers him is how lonely he feels, and how easy it would be for the man standing in front of him to just make that feeling go away.

But Anakin is a fucking grown man, who doesn't need to be... _Cuddled_. Or whatever. So he just let his forehead fall against Obi-Wan's shoulder with a groan when he starts cleaning up his hand.

This is so unfair. He used to be able to stay mad at his Master for entire days. For stupid, puny things, that Anakin was responsible for, most of the time. And now that he's an actual Sith, an evil, manipulative, murderous, authoritative asshole, he can't even keep physically away long enough to get the point across that he's not happy with how Obi-Wan is acting.

"Why did you do that?" he mumbles into the fabric of Obi-Wan's shirt. "It wasn't funny."

"It was. A bit." Anakin can hear the smile in his voice. "You realize it has never really been alive, yes?"

"Don't call him an 'it'..."

"I'll say what the fuck I want, Anakin. Show me your face."

Anakin detaches himself from Obi-Wan, raising his chin in a futile show of defiance that Obi-Wan ignores in favor of grabbing it to turn his face toward the light. 

"How did Drallig crash?" he asks as he starts cleaning out the congeled blood in Anakin's left eyebrow.

"Ahsoka shot him down."

"Really? That's good."

"Mhm." 

To be honest, his mind has gone far away from Ahsoka and whatever her situation is. Right now he is more concerned by the few inches that separate him from Obi-Wan's mouth and how easy it would be to bridge that gap right now.

"And you finished the job."

"Yes."

_Force Skywalker, stop being so inappropriate!_

"You killed him before he even had the chance to get out of his fighter."

Anakin winces, both at the dab of disinfectant on his cut and at Obi-Wan's observation.

"I was... Angry and..."

"You don't have to justify murder to me, Anakin."

"Murder?" Anakin repeats. "It wasn't mur..."

"Yes it was, dear one. Don't try to deny it... I haven't seen his lightsaber anywhere near his hand after all."

"Force..."

He lets go of his grip on Anakin's chin only to sneak his fingers over his jawline and behind his head where his fist close over a handful of hair. And he yanks on it, forcing Anakin to look up into his golden, red rimmed eyes as he looms over him. 

"This won't happen again."

"What...?" Anakin manages to asks as he struggles to keep from - from what, whining? Moaning? 

 _SO inappropriate!_ he screams in his head.

"You, almost getting yourself blown up. It won't happen again."

"You can't control that."

"Watch me."

"I'm a..." He's about to say 'a Jedi', but think better of it. "I'm a warrior, Obi-Wan. Risking my life is what I do."

"Lightsaber duels are a thing Anakin. I know you can win those. You're one of the best fighters I've ever seen. But this... Getting shot out of the sky without neither your nor I being able to do anything about it? I can't..."

"I slowed down my fall," Anakin argues between gritted teeth. "I did something about it." 

"Whatever. I thought you were _dead_ , for a second... You think killing Drallig was bad? Think about how much worse it would have been for him if I'd have to avenge you."

Then he lets go of his hold on Anakin's hair, and walks out of the medbay.

 

* * *

 

Mace Windu has come back to Coruscant only two hours ago, but his head feels like after a whole week of listening to _Squid Lake_  recordings on a loop.

He first went to the Senate, where he had the dubious pleasure of giving the order for the decapitated corpse of Count Dooku to be brought to the Temple, along with those of the dead members of the Temple's Guard. It should be a relief. The Count was Head of State of the Confederacy and this should count as a great victory for the Republic. But the circumstances...

Skywalker was the one who did it, according to Mas Amedda, who had not held back his opinion about trying to arrest a hero of the Republic, who had just done it another great service, deliberately ignoring that the two Guards had been sent there for _Kenobi_ and not Skywalker, and if the later had been caught in the crossfire, it was only his own fault. 

They have lost over thirty Temple Guards, and nearly twice as many men from the Senate. It's proof of needed be of the danger that Skywalker and Kenobi represent (Along with Asajj Ventress apparently, and how such an association can work out, Mace Windu can't even imagine. They've been at each other throat so many times...), and how urgent it is to catch them. 

But the Chancellor - Acting Chancellor, and Windu can't wait until that damned election to finally come - has been adamant. There is no touching Kenobi and Skywalker until they prove themselves hostile to the Republic.  

_As if it isn't plain enough to see already! How many Senate Massacres are needed until they're officially a threat? How many earthquakes? How many Vanishings?_

Oh he should never have accepted for Skywalker to be trained... There is little doubt in Mace Windu's head that this _is_ the boy's fault. That root of darkness that they sensed in him years ago was somehow what pushed his Master to the fall....

For now he's sitting in his chair in the Council Chamber, rubbing at his forehead in a vain attempt to will his headache away, under the worried gaze of a twi'lek soldier.

It's unusual to to have an outsider brought before the High Council, but the times are unusual. They have found the man on the ship Skywalker and Tano took between Devaron and Coruscant, apparently guarding it, and the only man from their unit to have come with them. They need all the intel they can if they want to limit the damages. Damages that they should not even have to consider if they had been as clever as they like to think. They should have solved this long ago, going out there to find Kenobi while he was still working alone, instead of letting Skywalker take off on his own without supervision. Now they have to play catch up, because the Council thought it better to concentrate it's efforts on the war rather than on they true mission. Fight the Dark Side. 

The man, a freshly appointed captain, has been part of Skywalker's personal unit for approximatively a month, and is already sporting numerous scars upon his pale green face. Though he might have acquired them before even being part of said unit, given how poorly Ryloth has been faring in the war so far, or eve, before it started. 

It could even have nothing to do with the war, but Mace Windu takes it as a personal affront still. His Order should be the firewall between people and such misfortune. It is their Force-given burden, and they set it aside to take part in the politics and theatrics of the galaxy's elite.

_We're failing. We have to make this right._

Once they have rooted out the darkness, they will.

"Tell me about those last few weeks, Captain."

The man is nervous, that much would be obvious even to a non-Force sensitive. He's twisting his hands and balancing his weight from one foot to the other, an attitude that contrast sharply with his hardened looks. Then again most men would feel the same in presence of such an assembly of Jedi Masters, even after having followed the Hero With No Fear and his Padawan in battle for a month. 

"Didn't General Skywalker fill in his report already? I'm not sure what more I can do for y..."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Captain. How is the moral? Has there been any issue with your superiors? It is not public knowledge, but we feel like you should know that General Skywalker has known some... Personal difficulties lately, and we're worried that it could have impacted on his efficacy on the field..." 

"Well..."

"Speak freely, please," Windu incites him, waving just a smidge of Force persuasion in his words. 

"Well, most of us, we admired him, sir. We were thrilled to serve under him. But he wasn't exactly like they said he would be... I mean he's a great General and all I don't say he isn't! But..."

"But what, Captain?" 

"Well... He's been freaking out the men, sir."

"At first it was just, you know, the Jedi things - no disrespect, but you lot have strange powers, sir. Like throwing droids around without touching them, and sensing thing that haven't happened yet. But the lady Ahsoka did the same things, so, it's like, normal, isn't it? And it gave us the advantage, too. But General Skywalker, he had that look on his face when he did it. like he would crush everything around him if he were to forget we were here. And when we weren't fighting... He would look scary too, but in a different way. Like a mourning man does, if you see what I mean, sir. And... Well then I remembered that he and Kenobi were... _You know_. There is so much stories about them..."

"No I don't know," Windu cuts him. _I'm going to regret it ain't I?_ "What do the stories say?"

"That they were together... Like, _together_."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi was Anakin Skywalker's Master, Captain, even if our Order permitted relationships between its members or outside of it..."

"But General Skywalker is married to the Senator, right?!" the man exclaims, covering the end of Windu's sentence. "The one who's running for the Chancellery? So it can't be, right?"

Windu sighs. If only it was that simple. They would probably have far less problems right now.

"And then there is that red blade..."

"Red blade?!"

"Like the ones that woman has? What is she called? Ventress? I've heard some men say no Jedi has red lightsabers but..." 

If this is true, he's surprised that he hasn't heard of it before. The media are like flies around a corpse as soon as Skywalker's name is mentioned. And given how detail focused some of Skywalker's... Groupies are, something as significant as a change of lightsaber color should have been noticed.

Funny that Skywalker would only, finally become careful when it comes to cheating the Order... 

 

* * *

 

  
"Linked they are," Master Yoda says as soon as the twi'lek Captain has left the room, twenty or so minutes of rambling later.

"Skywalker and Kenobi?" Kit Fisto says. "But..."

"Not anymore," Windu cuts him firmly. "We saw to it."

"Tricked you, they did. Separate him from his apprentice, Obi-Wan won't let you."

"But how? How did they tricked us?" Windu exclaims, dismayed.

The ritual _worked_. He knows it did. He was the one to lead it.

With a humph, the Grand Master gets down from his chair, walks up to Windu, and places two clawed fingers over his forehead. 

"Mhm... Appeared here, Obi-Wan did. Stopped you. Your memories, he changed. Unbroken their bond is. Stronger than ever, even."

"Ah, _druk!_ " Qui-Adi-Mundi exclaims, making everyone else turn to him in surprise at the vulgar expletive. "I mean. That's bad. Really bad." 

"You"re not saying," Windu replies as Yoda returns to his chair. "The Chosen One having a "stronger than ever" bond with a Sith. _Druk_ only starts to cover it." 

"I still can't believe he fell," Aayla Secura says over the holo. "He's always seemed so..." 

Balanced. At peace. Infallible. Yes, Obi-Wan had been all that. Until he hadn't, and it had been a terrible day. For the Force, for the Order, for Mace Windu himself.

Obi-Wan had been his friend, so far as the Master of the Order can have friends. 

The sight of his fellow Jedi Master the night following his fall... That was something he would never forget, even if he'd live as long as Master Yoda.

Gone had been the calm and poise that usually radiated the Jedi Master, replaced by fury and folly.

They had taken him in kicking and screaming - screaming one name - when he wasn't sobbing " _this can't be happening_ ", until they had passed the door of the Temple, at which point he had finally shut up and become still, except for his moving feet, and cast his gaze downside, not in repentance, but with an air of curiosity on his face.

They hadn't been able to find Skywalker anywhere in the Temple - where he was supposed to be, according to the logs - and he had left his comm in his room. Their first thought had logically been that the Knight was somehow responsible for this. That he'd betrayed Kenobi,and that those were screams of vengeance. But when he fallen Jedi had been questioned, he had laughed in their face, saying that " _Anakin would never_ " and " _no it's_ her _fault_ " but had refused to admit who that "her" was that he was talking about. So they had left him in a cell for the night, with two guards surveying him, and had spread through the Temple and Coruscant to damage control and maybe find some answer before coming back to crack him.

Skywalker had finally shown up in the morning, looking panicked and demanding to see _his Master_ , making Mace Windu question for the first time the two men's continued close relationship. Had this been going on for longer than was apparent? Had Kenobi turned before that day, taking his former Padawan as his Sith apprentice? Was his frantic state from earlier a lie? He had calmed down so suddenly...

It's only when bringing Skywalker down to the cells to be interrogated himself that they had discovered Obi-Wan's cell empty and his two guards lying dead on the floor. They had suffocated, though no mark was present on their neck. The fallen Jedi had used the Force to constrict their their throat, and they had died without him even touching them. Now how he had bypassed the Force-field keeping him in...

 _What if..._ Force, he can't believe he hasn't thought of this until this day. _What if the evil we thought so well sealed under the rock reached out to him?_

 

* * *

 

They make it to Korriban in about forty hours, that Anakin spends mostly in the chambers Obi-Wan attributed him. He feels immediately at ease in them, as they are just like those he would use while travelling on board of any other destroyer, and he wonders how many months it has been since he's slept in his Temple's bed. Probably over a year, actually. 

The next day, Obi-Wan drops by his quarters, telling him he's overseeing the deployment of the army and will see him soon, and he's off before Anakin has the time to ask him what the fuck he is supposed to do in the meantime, or why Obi-Wan bothered to pick him up if it's to leave him again so soon.

Anakin sees frustratingly little of Obi-Wan in the following weeks, and his anger at the man grows back with each passing days he's left stranded on Korriban. It doesn't help that the place is exuding the Dark Side like no other he has set foot on. He's staying as far as possible from the ruins of the Sith Temples, even more so when his eyes keep falling on them through the ship's bays.

_If this what being a Sith apprentice is, no wonder those guys are all crazy. I'm going out of my mind from boredom._

And boredom is the last thing he needs right now. Left to his own devices, he falls back into that bleak state he'd barely got himself out while he was back on the front-line with Ahsoka, and now he understands that the only thing keeping him out of it was making himself useful, a fact that he hates because it reminds him of a time when his sole value was how useful he could be to a certain flying rat reigning over a dusty rust shop and a handful of slaves.

 _Yeah, as if the Jedi valued you for more than your power..._  he tells himself as he eats tasteless rations in the trooper filled mess hall of the _Victus_.

 _And what am I worth to Obi-Wan, for that matters?_  he asks himself as he looks over the ruins of the nameless Sith city.

 _"Think about how much worse it would have been for him if I'd have to avenge you,"_ he'd say, after throwing a fit over Anakin almost dying. But what has it been about, really? _The pride of a Sith Master being hurt by a mere Jedi almost killing his apprentice._

And when he's not busy being self depreciating, all he can think about is what atrocious deeds Obi-Wan is committing out there. Which he can't even know for certain are being committed, because of course Korriban doesn't have the holonet, why would it? And he can't access any of the terminals present of the _Victus_ , or any other ships left on Korriban for what matters, and check out the Open Circle internal communications, as all the Republic passwords have been revoked and Obi-Wan didn't seem to think he useful to provide him a new one. 

He could slice into them, maybe, but so far every-time he has tried anything, a trooper has come up to him and coughed rather loudly until he'd stopped, and whatever Obi-Wan has done to them, mind tricks don't work anymore, so his only choices are to give up or use violence on them, something that he refuses to do. None of this is their fault, and they are _his_ men, even if they're not obeing him right now. He can't just throw them around and then have them suffer the consequence of not quarrying Obi-Wan's order efficiently. Because there is no doubt: Obi-Wan ordered for him to be cut off from the fleet's communications. 

_But why? What is he doing out there?_

He dreams of massacres, of entire planets ravaged by warship canons, of thousands of civilians falling under blasterfire. And again, of blood running down the Temple's steps.

He's not even screaming when he wakes up from those dreams. Just gets up and stares at the ruins some more. 

 _You can steal a ship,_ he tells himself invariably, every day when noon comes. _Get out of there. Find him again._

_Use that spice you bought..._

When that thought surfaces - and it does nearly as often as the idea of finding Obi-Wan - he takes out the vial from where he has stacked it, alongside the remaining pieces of Artoo, holding it up in the light, watching its content shimmer and dance, imagining planting the for now capped dart that comes out from one extremity into Obi-Wan's neck. The vial is easily concealable, slimer than his little finger, and the dart would not seem out of place on some middle sized insect he had the dubious pleasure to cross path with on tropical planets. He could have used it back on Dooku's ship. He could have used it while they were working the halls of the Senate. Now he can just go and...

_No. He said he'd be back soon. I'm not chasing after him again._

When he wakes up laughing after another night spent dreaming of death, he has to ask himself the question he has feared to ask for a while, now. 

_Is it it? Am I falling?_

Sometimes he thinks he already has, like when he starts to hear the whispers coming from the great ziggurat whose shadow reach the _Victus_ in the late afternoon. 

Or when, after coming out of the sonic one morning, he catches a glimpse of yellow in his reflection, but when he comes closer to the glass there is only blue in his eyes, and he exhales with relief. _Just a trick of the light._ But the feeling of unease that it provokes in him stays with him all day, and that evening he goes to the ship's mess and gets drunk with a bunch of Clones - or more accurately, gets drunk under the surveillance of a bunch of Clones - and they exchange tales of their last missions, from before the Vanishing. They are rather amused by the appellation, at it makes it seem like some mystic event rather than them simply taking the ships and leaving, though not as much by the fact in itself. They refuse to talk about what they think of it, or Obi-Wan imposing his will on them, even when Anakin rather insensibly presses them, and he ends up being taken back to his chambers by two of them, rumbling all along about how he is _sooo bored_ and _aren't you bored guys? Let's attack something!_

He's waken up the next morning - or is it noon already? - by the rumble of the _Victus_ 's engines starting, and as he throws hastily some clothes on, he can see Korriban growing smaller through the large bay that takes up an entire side of his room. 

"Who gave the order to leave?" he asks the first trooper he sees. 

"General Kenobi did, Sir." 

"He's on board?" Anakin asks, but he already knows the answer. Now that he's open to the potential of his presence, he can feel him, somewhere down the halls, and he follows them until he finds a suit of chambers similar to his. "You're back," he says instead of salute, leaning on the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. 

Obi-Wan is bent over a desk, looking at some schematics spread over it, and Anakin has to make himself violence so as to not look too hard at his ass, clad as it is in form fitting dark trousers. _I'm still angry at him,_ he reminds himself, looking over his head instead. 

Not much better. 

There are two large banners framing the desk, both bearing the symbol of their fleet, the Open Circle. And Anakin swallows hard as the implications of it surge to his mind. _Whose idea was it even in the first place?_ he wonders. Somehow he can't remember, but he's pretty sure there was alcohol involved, and Quinlan Vos. _"Two halves of a whole,"_ the man had said with a barking laugh as the three of them were looking down on the design, spread over a sheet of flimsi. A few weeks later, it had been revealed during some official event after a particularly spectacular victory, painted over the hull of a warship. Anakin - who had no idea how that thing he thought was only some joke had been proposed to anyone with enough authority to make it come true - had stood there staring at it for a while, stunned at the thought that that fleet they'd been leading for only a few months was now so undeniably  _their_ , but Obi-Wan had had a fire in his eyes that whole day, and the night dissolved into some more alcohol fumes, he'd taken Anakin aside and had admitted to him his relief that he'd chosen to maintain their bond, and he wouldn't want any other to fight alongside him...

 _Oh could I forget that night?_  

"Yes, I'm back." Obi-Wan says, startling Anakin out of his thought. He has a smile on his face as he walks up to him. "Missed me?" And as if it's nothing, he reaches to Anakin to fix the collar of the tunics he haphazardly put on.

_Force, did I..._

"Not really. You haven't been around much lately, anyway," he responds, looking away from his still grinning Master. "How's the war?" 

"The war is the war, dear one." _Stop calling me that._ "Bloody and chaotic," he says as if he couldn't dream of anything better. "As for the contenders... The Republic is still doing a mess of itself without the Clones - and us - and the Confederacy is barely doing better now that Tyrannus is out of the picture. _We_ , on the contrary, are doing pretty good so far."

" _We?_ I've been doing shit all here. I don't even know what's going on without the holonet, I..." 

Obi-Wan's hands leave him, and he takes a step back, his smile disappearing as he strokes his beard pensively. 

"I wasn't aware you wanted in, Anakin. I wanted to spare you the struggle of having information on my moves when your _loyalties_ clearly dictate you to share them with the Council..." 

"What?" he asks dumbly. Force he hasn't even thought of doing that! This isn't what he's here for! 

"Well I thought... With how you hesitated killing those Guards back on Coruscant... And how you admitted to me that you were feeling guilty about it..." 

"Of course I felt guilty about killing them! That doesn't mean I would _betray_ you!" 

Obi-Wan takes back the step that separates them and sliding a hand in Anakin's hair, murmurs as if lost in thoughts:

"Then I'm glad I took the _Victus_ \- and you - this time, then. You'll have a front row seat to the Confederacy's anihilation."

Then he turns away and walks back to his desk, this time sitting behind it, and picking up a datapad, starts to read whatever's on it.

"I don't want to just _watch_..." Anakin says, planting himself in front of Obi-Wan's desk. "Put me to work." 

There's a moment of silence, during witch Obi-Wan doesn't show any sign of having heard him, and Anakin feels anger rising in him once more. _Calm down, calm down,_ he tells himself. _You aren't on Korriban anymore. You can control it._

A sigh, then, "What do you want to do?" Obi-Wan says at least. 

"What you trained me to do!"

Obi-Wan finally looks up from his datapad, resting burning golden eyes on Anakin instead of whatever report he's reading. 

"I don't know, Anakin," he says, reclining back in his chair. "I've trained you in many domains. Which one would you like to apply yourself to?" 

"Give me a ship. Send me on the battlefield." 

"I don't know..." Obi-Wan repeats. "Would you be ready to kill sentient?" 

"What?"

"The Confederacy is running out of droids. Their factories are falling - and failing - one after the other, and both our fleet and the Republic's are doing an excellent job at eradicating those that have been sent out. So the Separatists are putting out sentient. Just like the Republic had to conscript in order to replace the clones. Of course the people aren't pleased..." 

"And this happened in three weeks?" Anakin interrupts brusquely. He hasn't heard of this, and he had intel coming from all over the galaxy up until he joined Obi-Wan and got cut from Republic communications.

"It's been brewing for a bit more than that, but the first sentient units have been sent out a few days ago, yes. Incredible isn't it? The damages one can do when living in his enemy's house, sharing his meals, training alongside his assassin..."

Anakin can't help but feel admiration for him at this moment. Obi-Wan has always been extremely efficient when he sets his mind on a task, and surprisingly stealthy for someone of his notoriety. But to sabotage the Confederacy just under Dooku's nose? Even knowing his Master's skills as he does, he's impressed.

But he has to roll his eyes at the smug look Obi-Wan's harboring. Just by principle. 

"So, will you do it?" Obi-Wan's asks, crossing his fingers under his chin and looking up at him, his proud grin still in place.

Anakin hesitates. On one hand, he's tired on sitting on his ass doing nothing. And it's about Force-damned time that they put an end to this war. He wants to do his part. And he also feels like it's his duty to get involved, so maybe he can temper Obi-Wan's tactics if they turn up to be too... Dark. 

On the other... He has killed too much already. He shouldn't go further down this path. _This is not the Jedi way..._

"You've done it before," Obi-Wan says, echoing his thoughts. "So many times... Scoundrels, bounty hunters, assassins, spies, militia members, pirates... Tusken Raiders. What's different today?"

"All the people I killed before... They knew the risks. They had chosen to be there." _"I...I killed them. I killed them all. They're dead, every single one of them. And not just the men, but the women and the children too..." -_ in the end, none of them had had any choice. It had all been Sidious and Dooku. "Those people... didn't chose to fight for the Separatists."  

"Some might have. But you're right, most probably didn't. Then what? That's proof of their weakness. If they were stronger, they would bail. Take their families, join the Republic or, I don't know, exile themselves in the Outer Rim or the Unknown Regions. But no, they're letting the Confederacy use them." 

 _The Code says we must protect the weak..._ But Obi-Wan won't hear that.

"We didn't had the choice to fight for the Republic, you and I," he shoses to say instead. "Are we as weak at them?"

"We _were_. But now, look at us. Free at last..."

Rousing himself from his chair and walking around his desk, Obi-Wan comes to stand in front of Anakin, putting both hands on his shoulders. 

"Look at it that way. They're going to die anyway. You came to me to so I'd gave you something to do. So go, and kill."

 

* * *

 

They don't have to worry about all the planets. With the Republic occupying the Separatists, they can focus on one at a time, and with thousands of ships and millions of clones, the occupying Separatists forces don't hold a chance against them.

Anakin slips back into the role of Obi-Wan's second without missing a beat. 

It's almost scary how easy it is. Letting Obi-Wan set the pace of their lives. Taking orders from him. Making his will become true. And how little difference there is between being a Jedi's Padawan and A Sith's Apprentice. 

It's probably made even easier by the lack of judgment from the Clones. They're acting as if nothing is amiss, just another campaign under the command of their generals. 

What's different though is that neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan spend much time on the battlefield, though Anakin isn't sure exactly where Obi-Wan spends his time. He often disappears as soon as they're out of hyperspace, leaving Anakin with plans and instructions, and the entire fleet to lead. 

He seems to have acquired a network of spies during the months he's been on his own, and is clearly working them hard. Anakin also suspects him of using assassins, though he has no proofs of that. Just very strong suspicions, and a string of holoreports about one Senator or another, about this king or that banker, all found dead in strange circumstances. 

Speaking of assassins, he hasn't seen Ventress much since they left Euceron. She comes and goes as she please, or maybe as it pleases Obi-Wan, who knows. Not like they're talking to Anakin about their Sith business. 

It's frustrating situation, to be honest. Both because it once more put his own plan on the backburner, and because Anakin is aching for a fight, for a confrontation that doesn't come.

He isn't even sure who he wants to fight, really. _Anyone_ , says his crystals, _everyone_ , says the Dark Side through his shared bond with Obi-Wan. 

But instead he's stuck at the command of two hundred million clones and, well, even though he has been one of the leaders of the Open Circle, he used to have other Jedi that could relieve him while he was gone on stealth missions or on the ground with the men.   

Oh, sure, he kills, like Obi-Wan ordered him to do, but very few actually die under his blade. Most of the time, the opposing troupes fall under blaster fire or shot down from destroyers.  

And a fight isn't the only thing he's aching for. 

Sadly, being apart so much is not doing much to appease his desire for his Master. _Is it the Dark Side?_ he wonders. _Or does he has always looked so fucking good?_ Then _it's probably the clothes,_ he decides one day as he studies from afar the dark, lean silhouette that's perched on a cliff that looks over their amassed troupes. The clothes in question have somehow gotten more and more leathery with each passing day, bits and pieces of metal shining all over and it's jarring how well it fits him, when Anakin is pretty sure he hasn't seen him wear anything else than beige and browns for over a decade.  

 _Where does he even get those?_ he wonders, looking down at his own battered Jedi outfit. Even though they get cleaned up frequently, they starting to look like they aren't, and he sure doesn't look the part of a General anymore. 

On the few occasion they end up in the same room though, Anakin has to ignore just how much he wants to tear off those fancy clothes, in favor of trying to strike more... Philosophical conversation than what he really has in mind. About the Force and their position in the war, but everytime Obi-Wan looks at him with an amused look, or pats him on the head like he's some puppy, cute, but not worthy of being listened to. 

As much as he likes to tell himself that he's just biding his time, lulling Obi-Wan into a false sense of security, deep down he knows that it's not true, and he can give himself all the pep talks he wants, at night in his bed, telling himself that he'll confront his Master the next time he sees him, corner him and make him _listen_ , he's getting more and more discouraged, and the more discouraged he gets the more he asks himself if it's really worth it. if he shouldn't just leave him be...

_No. I made a promise._

_I can't leave him to the darkness. I have to bring him back_.

 

* * *

 

 

Two months after he has joined Obi-Wan, they encounter Republic ships for the first time. 

Until that day, they've always been careful to avoid them. No need to spark a conflict with the Republic when they are working toward the same goal.

They're circling Emberlene, a planet inhabited by the matriarchal Mistryl and governed by a council known as the Eleven Elders of the People. They've joined the Confederacy on their own will, and started colonizing the surrounding worlds with the Mystril Shadow Guard at the helm of their armies. Anakin suspects Obi-Wan of wanting to appropriate said Guard, and though he recognize that the highly trained warrior order would be a great advantage for them, he also doubts that any would accept to join them after being beaten.

But for now all is still around the planet, neither the inhabitants of Emberlene nor the two fleets making a move. as all are unsure of who to attack first, and if they should fear the third army to come at them from the back.  

Anakin is looking down at the Republic ships from the command bridge of the _Victus_ , studying their state and numbers. Ten destroyers, and ten others smaller ships. Their hulls have been repainted he notices, the Open Circle symbol now replaced by the Republic's cog in a sober black on the grey durasteel plating.

 _How come we didn't heard anything about this?_ Obi-Wan's spies must have been slacking off. Heads are going to fall.

"General we have an oncoming transmission from the Republic's capital ship."

Anakin sighs, not at all enthusiast about whatever the commanding officer in charge of this campaign has to say to him. He hasn't really left Coruscant in the best circumstances, and by now there must not be a lot of people left in the galaxy unaware that he has joined the man responsible for the death of the Chancellor.

_Force, I hope they aren't Jedi._

"Let's hear them."  

The voice that rises from the speakers is familiar.

"General Skywalker? This is Admiral Tarkin speaking."

Admiral? This is a new development. Tarkin had been only a Captain the last time Anakin had worked with him. 

"What do you want, Tarkin?" 

Without Anakin noticing it - a feat, giving his awareness of his Force-presence - Obi-Wan has snicked up behind him, sliding a hand over his back as he comes to stand at his side. 

"A meeting," Tarkin says. "Face to face. So we can discuss the logistics of this siege. We don't want to accidentally shoot at each other, do we?"

"You want us to... Work together?" Anakin asks, perplex.  

"Well, I believe the Acting Chancellor has ordered that no actions should be taken against you for as long as you don't try to take over any of the planets you free from the Separatists."  

That's a relief, Anakin has to admit. He still has some hope that they'll be spared by the Republic's justice once it is proven by the Order that Obi-Wan has been brought back to the Light - if that day ever come - and that his actions were the result of the Dark Side corruption. This is promising.

"Alright, I'll see you..."

"Not you, General Kenobi. I want to speak with Skywalker. In person."

"I really don't see why you can't do this over the comms," Obi-Wan replies, irritation clear in his voice.

"The Separatists have many ears, General. And have been know to listen on even the most skillfully encrypted channels. It wouldn't be good for none of us if they were to hear our plans."

"Alright, Admiral, I'll be there shortly," Anakin says, walking up to the console to cut the communication himself before Obi-Wan can't protest further.

"You shouldn't..." 

Anakin camps himself in front of Obi-Wan, arms crossed over his chest, and what he hopes is a more resolute than petulant expression.

 _Force, I'm not some careless Padawan anymore, I've done much harder than just have a talk with Tarkin!_ he wants to shout in his Master's face.

"How many times have I boarded hostile ships on my own?" he asks instead.

"i don't know Anakin, why don't you tell me."

"A whole damn lot. And Tarkin _isn't_ hostile. This is just common sense to coordinate our efforts. And he's right. You know, considering how Sidious used to run both sides... We can't trust that we aren't being listened to when we communicate outside of our internal network..."

"I still fail to see why _you_ have to go." 

"Come on, Obi-Wan, no one wants to negotiate with _the_ _Negotiator_."

"Negotiate? I thought this was just _coordination of efforts_." 

"Yeah, sure, but you know... I know what you've planned for the Shadow Guard. You want to recruit the survivors. Because of their fancy shock wips, or whatever. And I know that Tarkin will want them all executed for treason and sedition. So there _will_ be negotiations."

"So you're saying that you're giving him the advantage... Because he doesn't want us to have the advantage?"

"Hey, I'm not that bad either. I can be... Persuasive." He waves his hand between them at that, meaning to evoke the gesture that usually goes with mind tricks, but it doesn't seem to satisfy Obi-Wan at all. He actually looks even more pissed off now, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, as if he has to make a conscious effort to not explode. Anakin lets his hand fall and sighs before raising it again to run his fingers in his hair in exasperation. "What else can we do anyway? Just attack and take the risk of making a mess that would result in defeat because we refused to coordinate? Or retreat and let everyone know we are cowards? That's what you want? For the whole galaxy to think that _Lord Melior_ has retreated before the Shadow Fleet - if we can even call it a fleet - even with twenty Republic ships in reinforcement?" 

"Fine! Go if you think we need _Tarkin_ to win this!" Obi-Wan exclaims with a dismissive gesture of the hand, before turning away and walking out of the bridge, apparently done with the whole situation. 

Anakin blinks at his retreating form. 

"Wait, that's not what I s..."

Without any order given, six clones detach themselves from the rank they were part off, and come to place themselves behind Anakin in a protective half circle. 

It has taken him a few days to understand that the faint buzz in his head was Obi-Wan exercising control over the Clones, but since he has, it allows him to not show any more surprise at this new, silent dynamic between his Master and their men, thought he's starting to find it annoying. Would it kill Obi-Wan to speak up every now and then?

 

* * *

 

"I am glad to see you General," Tarkin salutes him, clasping Anakin on the shoulder in a strange breach of protocol, coming from the man. "You're presence has been missed on the front line. I am happy to see you're willing to keep on fighting, even if it's not under the Republic's colors..."

"Not so long ago the Open Circle _was_ the Republic's colors..." Anakin feels obligated to remark.

"Was it, really?" Tarkin asks with a half smile, and Anakin can't help but blush under his piercing stare, can't help but feel like the Admiral is implying something...  _Two halves of a whole..._ _Damn you Quinlan!_ "But even as you were leaving us, you left us a priceless gift. The death of Count Dooku was an event celebrated by many in the galaxy, for it is undeniably what will permit the Republic's victory."

Tarkin gestures toward the war table occupying a side of the command bridge.

"Now, shall we?" 

But Anakin stays were he's standing. Obi-Wan wants his whip wielding furies. He's not going to disappoint him. 

"Before we begin... I have a request."

"Really?" Tarkin's amused smile 

"Any captured member of the Shadow Guard shall be handed to us." 

"Is that all? No land, no tribute?"

"What would we do with them? No, Admiral, we only seek to serve the Republic. And for that we need warriors. The Shadow Guard is among the bests out there." 

"Then they will be handed to you, General..."

Well that was easy, Anakin thinks, allowing a small smile to come to his lips.

But Tarkin isn't finished.

"Granted that you deliver Obi-Wan Kenobi to me."

Anakin's smile freezes on his lips.

"I'm sorry, I thought the Chancellor had ordered..."

"Well the Clones are Republic property, so his repugnance to go against them is understandable. And you... Well, you have the love of the people, General. And you're married to his opponent. It would be ill advised for him to... Get rid of you right now, I suppose, though I think he gives far to much importance to public opinion. But Kenobi... Well, he's a mass murderer. And him taking the fleet is both robbery and an act of war. He has to go."

"Then why making me come here instead of him? You could have him in chains by now."

"Because then you would have tried to rescue him. But if you agree..."

"No."

"Are you certain? He's not your Master anymore, Anakin, if my knowledge of the Jedi Order's inner workings are correct. You don't owe him your loyalty."

"You can stick with 'General', Tarkin," Anakin says through gritted teeth. "And where my loyalties go have nothing to do with either the Code nor the Order."

"Then I fear our collaboration... Isn't going to happen."

Anakin straightens, using the few centimeters he has over the Admiral to look down at him with contempt.

"I suggest you keep well away from the fights, Admiral. My Master isn't likely to work around your ships once he hears of this. And he _will_ hear of this, either through me or through my men," he says, gesturing as the troopers standing behind him. "Pray to the Force it'll be through me."

"Oh, I'm not much of the praying type."

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan feels the shock of the explosion coursing through him as the same time as he witnesses it through the _Victus_ 's viewing bay. It doesn't look like much from here, as the shuttle has only barely left the shadow of the Republic's ship, but the mere fact that he can see it from such a great distance is a proof of the explosion's magnitude. 

He doesn't say a word. Doesn't shout Anakin's name. Doesn't curse Tarkin. But for a few seconds, his whole body freezes, jaw locked and fists clenched, and he stops breathing. 

Until, like a heart that starts pumping blood again after being shocked back to life, Anakin's mind pulses against his in a frantic way before somehow calming down. 

 

* * *

 

It takes Anakin a moment to realize he isn't dead.

 _Obi-Wan is going to kill me,_ he thinks as stars slowly rotate around him. He's floating, just like he did that night he drank half a bottle of Ambrostine and crossed the galaxy to find Obi-Wan. - but a lot slower.

_This is kind of boring._

He turns around - or at least tries to, but he's moving as if stuck in treacle or as if there is no air he can move in. 

 _I'm still breathing, thought_ , he finally notices. It's like there's an invisible bubble around him... That or death has really, finally come to him, and it comes with a painful ringing sound, just to make you regret not being alive some more.

When he finally manage to turn around, he realize he's in orbit, looking up at Emberlene and Tarkin's fleet... And the debris of the ship he was on until a few minutes ago.

And he understands that even though he let him leave his ship, the Admiral wasn't intending for him to leave the Emberlene System alive.

_But why? Didn't he said I was to be left alone?_

_Though he did also say he didn't believe the public opinion mattered._

It doesn't really help Anakin understand _why_ he attempted to kill him, but it starts to explain why he didn't had much qualms about it.

 _So now what?_ he wonders, and as if summoned by his thoughts, a small ship enters his line of sight. It's one of his, to his relief, and a minute later the doors of its hold are closing behind him, and he falls to the ground as gravity reclaims his body.

His head keeps on ringing well after he's boarded the _Victus,_ though he doesn't say anything to Obi-Wan _. But he knows, doesn't he?_ he can see his Master looking at him with that heavy look of his, all the way from across the command bridge, and he curses their bond that leaves very little - _only the things that really matter_ \- to the imagination. 

"It was a trap."

No answer.

"Or maybe it wasn't," Anakin says, taking another few step towards where Obi-Wan is sitting, watching him still. "Not at first. I didn't sense anything wrong when I arrived on board. We made our plans..." he lies. "As if he really wanted to cooperate."

Another step, still no answer.

"I... I don't know what made him change his mind. Maybe I said something..."

And another one.

"I think the Force saved me..."

But it doesn't seem like Obi-wan is listening to him, and Anakin ends up shut shutting up, letting an uncomfortable silence fall on the bridge.

"Follow me," Obi-Wan says finally, getting up and walking past him and into the hallway.

"Obi-Wan?"

They don't cross path with anyone, but Anakin can see troopers running in parallel hallways at intersections, and can feel them moving through the ship in the Force. It's not easy with his headache, but he's almost certain they're going too the hangar and to the canons.

They're readying for battle.

"Obi-Wan, what is the plan?"

He stops when he still gets no answer.

"Please, talk to me."

Obi-Wan sighs and coming back on his tracks, puts a hand on the small of his back, urging him forward - Anakin can't help but arch against it, just a tiny bit - and they keep walking, until they arrive in front of a familiar door. 

"Why are we going to your quarters?" Anakin asks in a trembling voice - should he blame the aftereffects of the explosion, or the nerves? He hasn't been there since he requested to be sent on the frontline, and something in Obi-Wan's expression... 

"Because that's where you'll be staying while I destroy Tarkin and his fleet."

Anakin spins around, but it's too late. He's inside, and the door has been closed. 

"You can't do that!" he shouts through the door's panel. "I thought you wanted back into the Republic! You're going to brand yourself as its enemy!"

It's a miracle he hasn't done it already, really, what with killing the Chancellor and those Senators and stealing the army. Only the Negotiator could have managed to keep a somewhat neutral relationship with the Republic after such acts... And he's about to ruin it all, and for what? Anakin hasn't even really been harmed!  

"So be it." 

Then he walks away, and Anakin is left staring at the door. 

"What the fuck?" 

There is no handle. No button to press. No control panel. 

The door looks freshly installed, too, the durasteel shining under the red security lights.

Anakin takes a deep, somewhat calming breath - no way he's reaching meditation level calm today - and projects his sense forward, and inside the panel, and... there it is.

An internal mechanism. Complex enough that it would take him hours, if not days to find out how to unlock it without having seen its schematics first.

_What are you so scared about, to have such security installed on a ship full of men you control with your own mind?_

 

* * *

 

Anakin meditates. A lot.

It takes a few days for Obi-Wan to realizes, busy as he is with tracking the last remaining ships of Tarkin's fleet... And with staying far away from his own quarters.  

Not that he is better at it than when he was still Obi-Wan’s Padawan, but he’s still _trying,_ and it's, quite paradoxically, distracting. 

Obi-Wan realizes he's succeeding when he sees his own reflection while coming up from the Victus's hangars on the fourth day, and his eyes are... _blue?_

"What the..."

That is sure as Sith Hell not coming from him. He doesn't feel calm. Not at all. The Force around him is a boiling cloud that would announce death to any Force-sensitive that would dare approach him, and probably even to those who can't recognize the current of the living Force for what they are, but still feel their influence on an instinctual level.

Opening the hidden mechanisms that open the door with a thought, he barges into his chambers without announcing himself, though the Force might have already done that for him because Anakin's eyes are on him as he comes in. 

"Is there a problem?" he asks placidly, and it pisses Obi-Wan off even more.

"Why would there be?", he replies flatly. "Get up."

Anakin takes his sweet time to do so, brushing imaginary dust from the loose pants he's wearing - the only thing he's wearing actually, and Obi-Wan allows himself a quick look over before speeding up the process and taking a hold of Anakin's artificial arm, hauling up upward. 

He drags him to a hold reconverted into a dojo. And they spar.

It’s both an excellent and terrible idea. 

Excellent because if there is a place Anakin comes alive with passion, it's on training ground - or on the battlefield - and it quickly chases away that feeling of calmness, of death-like serenity he'd been emanating earlier. Terrible, because... Well, no, a panting and sweating Anakin is also a definitive positive.   

They're sparring empty handed, keeping to punches and kicks. Truth to be told, Obi-Wan doesn't trust either of them with a saber right now, even training ones. He's still riding the wave of furor that rose in him as Tarkin attempted to kill Anakin, and even though he's positive that he wouldn't hurt him past cuts and bruises, he isn't above to admit that he could lose control if pushed. As for Anakin... As much as he loath the idea, he has to face the fact that his apprentice _could_ resort to violence if he thought his hopeless quest wasn't going well enough. And with the events of the past days...

"You've been meditating."

"So what?" Anakin replies, punching Obi-Wan in the stomach.

He laughs breathlessly

"So I know you hate it."

They dance around each other, raged breaths syncing up once more, as if coming out of one set of lungs instead of two.

"Maybe I've grown to appreciate it." Anakin says, shrugging. "It's not like I've had much else to do anyway."

A spark of guilt. _But I couldn't leave him to roam free while I was exacting justice, could_ _I? He would have tried to stop it. Cold have been hurt, or killed in the cross-fire._

"What do you think?"

He can't bear it anymore. Them being on opposite side of the scale like this. 

 _Then make him fall!_ screams the darkness inside of him.

"I think you're trying to give me balance."

Can't bear being seen as in need of salvation.

_Then save him from the lies of the Light!_

"I think you're trying to bring me peace through our bond."

Can't bear not being able to touch him beyond fleeting contacts and grasps, not being able to call him _his_...

_Then take him! You don't need those games! He's right here, right..._

"I think you still believe you can be bring me back to the Light."

He catches him by the back of his neck, his hand flying there as if by itself, and with a little aid from the Force - though at that point both in his life and in this session, it just comes as naturally as using the strength of his muscles - slams Anakin into the mats. A startled shout escapes his apprentice as he ends up sprawled on the mats, Obi-Wan’s knee on his back pinning him to the ground.

"You won't succeed. So give. Up."

Anakin tries to lever himself with his mechnoarm, but Obi-Wan grabs his wrist with his free hand, twisting the limb in a way he knows to be painful - but hell if he cares right now. If he has to hurt Anakin to make him submit to his will, then so be it.

"Ah... Never!"

"Anakin!"

"Would you do that?! If I were in your place? Would you give up on me?!"

"I wouldn't force you to be something you don't want to be!"

A sob escapes Anakin's throat, and he says, voice low as if he doesn't want to be heard, not really:

"But you did..."

That melts away any rage that subsides in Obi-wan, leaving behind a sickening feeling of guilt - no, not guilt, _regret_. For all the missing opportunities, for the things he did because he thought they were _right_ , instead of the things they both wanted - and the ever present need to erase everything that isn't him from Anakin's thought, so he turns him around on his back with one hand, before he does something impulsive like rubbing his rock hard cock against his ass - even amidst the turmoil of his thoughts and feelings, he can't help but react to the fact that he's pining _Anakin_ to the ground. There is still enough decency in him that he won't take advantage of his apprentice's distress, even though it excites him more than he would admit if anyone dared to ask him.

"And I was wrong... Anakin..." He cups Anakin's cheek with the hand that isn't supporting him, looking into wide blue eyes that he both loves beyond measure and dreams to turn into golden ones. "If you knew what's really in there... What I feel. What I want... You would understand. Why I went along with it. Why I can't anymore. You would join me."

"I already..."

"You're here physically, yes. But your heart isn't in it," he says, trailing a finger over Anakin's naked chest. "Neither your mind," he adds, hand flying to Anakin's forehead, chasing away strands of hair stuck there by sweat. "You're holding back, and I know it's my fault... I taught you too well."

"You did," Anakin replies in a strangled voice. "You were the best teacher I could have dreamed of... That's why I can't let you down now." 

"But _you are,"_ he whispers. "You are letting me down. I thought you'd be stronger, cleverer. That you would recognize the lie they've been telling us for what it is... They pretend to be protectors, saviors... But they took you from your home... They left your mother to be a slave, and then to be slaughtered... And they made your _love_ a crime..." That he can't help but spit out. "And they sent you to battle, when they pretend to want peace... And yet you're still trying to preserve them. You're still loyal to them..."

That, surprisingly, is what finally gets a rise out of him. 

"Fuck you!"

Anakin's fist collides with his jaw, propelling him back and off of him.

"I spent months looking for you! I killed Jedi! For _you_. You don't get to..." 

Obi-Wan doesn't think, just launches himself forward and strikes back, throwing his fist at Anakin's infuriatingly pretty face before straddling him and closing one hand over his throat. But he doesn't tighten his grip, doesn't strike again, because he's too mesmerized by the sight.

Anakin is looking at him with wide eyes, with the same expression he had that day on Mustafar when Obi-Wan cut him. 

 _I've dreamed about it enough to recognize it..._ If only he knew for sure what it meant. All he has to go with is their bond, and right now it's an echo chamber of a thousand different thoughts and feelings, some his, some Anakin's, and he can't make sense of any it.  

His lip has split open, and a trickle of blood is running from his slightly open mouth from which comes out his raged breath, and Obi-Wan can feel it under his hand, the air rushing and the blood pumping wildly in his neck.

And he doesn't think either as he raises his free hand to press into the gash with his thumb and takes it to his own mouth to taste the blood... 

"General!" says the anonymous voice of a clone in his back. "We caught the last ship." 

 

* * *

 

Padmé didn't had much hope to success in contacting Anakin, what with having failed to do so for weeks now. So she's not even really giving attention to the holoprojector as it searches for a signal and she jumps in her seat when the static leaves place to her husband's voice.

"Padmé?"

Anakin is apparently sitting in a fighter, though he doesn't look like he's flying but just sitting there.

He looks like a wild spirit, one of those creatures described in the tales of her youth, when she still had the time to listen to stories. His hair looks like a bird's nest, and her fingers itch to pick up a brush and untangle it. She can see the shine in his eyes even through the holo, as if he's giving off his own light and... _What is he wearing?_ Even for them that's a lot of leather.

"What's going on? Is Ahsoka with you? I need to talk to her."

He's got a split lip, and he keeps running his tongue over it. It's a bit distracting - she did always had a thing for Anakin's lips - and she wonders since when they haven't kissed. Oh that's right. Three months and a half. And he was drunk.

"I borrowed her comm, since you weren't answering."

"I got rid of it. I only replicated the coding recently on this one from Artoo's parts... So I could contact Ahsoka."

 _But not you_ , is the implicit ending of that sentence. She knows it. It's as if he's trying to hurt her on purpose.

"Look, Anakin. I understand why you're mad. I shouldn't have gone behind your back..."

"No you shouldn't have. And you know what else you shouldn't have done? Tried to _kill my Master_."

 _My Master_. The words are like a blow to her face. She hasn't heard Anakin call Obi-Wan that way for a long time. She had thought they were past that stage of their relationship, after Anakin had been knighted. 

"Please, can we get past this?" she says, even though the words are like razors in her mouth. She knows she won't get past it. But she she has to try. "I have something to tell you. Something important."

"Can we get past..." Anakin laughs, though it's a joyless laugh, but that doesn't make it better by any mean. "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

"I'm pregnant."

He looks gobsmacked for a moment, then a - fake, oh so fake, it's breaking her heart - smile makes it's way onto his injured lips.

"Well, that's won... That's wonderful."

He doesn't think it, it's evident. He looks more disturbed than anything else. 

It's like a weight falling at the bottom of his stomach.

_Here to keep you company, little one._

But she has to try. She has to have hope.

"Come back to me," she pleads. "Help me raise our child... We can go back to Naboo... Leave everything else behind while we still can."

"What about the Chancellery? What about all your ideals and plans?"

"If you come with me..."

Oh stars did she have hope. That it would bring them back together once more. That it would take Anakin's mind off his foolish quest. 

"No."

She was wrong to hope.

"Not before I've turned Obi-Wan back." Obi-Wan. Of course. It's always Obi-Wan with Anakin. Coming before her. And now even before their child. "But don't worry. It won't be long now." Anakin says with a tentative smile, this one truer than the last, or so she believes. "I have a plan. It was a last resort one, but now... If I want our child to be safe, then I can't hesitate. Obi-Wan is a menace. To us. To the Republic."

Padmé sighs in relief.

_Can I believe in this? Can I trust those words? He was so hostile just a minute ago... Is he really coming around?_

But then she remembers what Anakin's plan supposedly entails.

"No, wait, Anakin..."

"I'll be home soon, angel, I promise."

"Anakin, you can't..."

"It will all be alright."

Then her holocomm goes silent, and her husband's silhouette vanishes.

 

* * *

 

The only reason why Obi-Wan doesn’t totally panic when he comes back on the _Victus_ and can’t find Anakin on board is that their bond tells him he hasn't gone far, likely taking a fighter down to Commenor, a planet they saved from a desperate Separatist attempt at taking a hold of its spaceport a week before running into Tarkin over Emberlene, and where he has ordered that branch of the Open Circle to go, for he knows they will be well received there. Commenor is wealthy, well connected. There are many things Anakin could be seeking there. And many more things that could find him. _Jedi, Republic military, leftover Separatists, bounty hunters_...

 _He can take care of himself_ , Obi-Wan tries to rationalize. _He's done so for all those months you left him to trail after you. And you got him back in one piece_... 

He knows he has gone overboard those last weeks. Limiting Anakin's moves even with the might of the Open Circle to assure his survival in battle, keeping him locked up for days after Emberlene. 

He doesn't regret destroying the Republic's ships, nor does he regret laying waste to Emberlene afterward - the planet was part of the Confederacy, and even though he doesn't have much loyalty left for the Republic, he was still part of it until recently, and intends to lead it soon, so they were indirectly defying him - not even sparing the warriors he had come to recruit in the first place. And he for sure not regret boarding Tarkin's ship and strangling the man with his own two hands just a few hours earlier. No, he only regrets that doing so took so much time. Time during he couldn't let Anakin out. He would have tried to make him stop, Obi-Wan knows it. 

_But what if he intends on leaving?_

What if he has gone planetside only to get onto some anonymous transport, some civilian filled ship on witch Obi-Wan won't be able to track him, with only their bond to tell him he's still outside, and to taunt him with a general idea of where his apprentice is, but nothing precise enough to actually _find_ him.

_No, wait... I can do better than that._

"Get out!" he barks, forgetting for once that everyone on the bridge can hear his orders just fine if he just _thinks_ them loud enough. "Everyone get the fuck out!"

The clones obey. Of course they do. But they still throw him weird glances as they walk past him. None of them has contested any of his orders. They can't. But sometimes he can see a glimpse of disapprobation in their eyes, or curiosity after some unusual instruction has been given. 

He doesn't care what they think. Not anymore. He has stopped caring about a lot of things lately. 

The only things he think about are revenge and conquest.

And one of the things he desire to conquest is trying to elude him.

"Anakin," he says the name like a prayer. "Anakin, Anakin..."

 

* * *

 

 

It's different than the last time, when he'd appeared in the Temple, and walked among the Masters. Maybe it's because what drives him today is panic and despair rather than the passion and lust than made him manifest himself to Anakin. Today, he's looking through Anakin's eyes.

He's looking through his eyes, and none of what he sees is pleasing him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Ahsoka be like:
> 
> also:
> 
> Anakin: I can't believe I have to fuck Obi-Wan.  
> Padmé: Well you don't have to...  
> Anakin: No, I'm gonna.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter & stay tuned, good stuff ahead *moonwalks out of AO3 while evil cackling*


	20. Spicing Things Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm under legal contract I have to write at least one bar scene per fic or I lose my Star Wars licence.

  
The first thing Anakin does after Obi-Wan has taken off is to get back to his chambers and get some actual clothes on. 

It's surprisingly easy to get the hidden lock to open for him, now that he has witnessed Obi-Wan doing it. This door won't hold him - or out - again. He locks it behind him and goes to stand before the opened wardrobe, studying his choices.

He has had plenty of time to explore this - both extensive and expensive - wardrobe during the past few days, and it didn't take him long to find clothes that seemed to fit him too perfectly to have been bought for Obi-Wan, though they fit the pattern of dark and elaborate.

Discarding the pants he's been wearing - those belong to Obi-Wan and have the comfortable feel that comes with having been worn regularly, but he's been walking around half naked too much already today - he gets into one of those outfits that seemed to have been purchased for his sake - unless Obi-Wan is hiding another six feet tall man somewhere.

The pants are almost too tight, and he hopes he won't have to fight anyone in them, and the... Jacket? Does it qualifies as a jacket? There doesn't seem to be enough fabric for it, and it doesn't seem like it's supposed to go on top of something else - when he closes it around his torso, feels strange against his naked skin, the similileather warming up quickly against it.

He slips the vial contemning the liquid spice in the bracer covering his left arm, where he can feel it digging into his muscle, and grabs a cape before leaving the room, though he doesn't put it on. Then he goes to his own rooms, where he picks up the holocomm he has cobbled together using some of Artoo's surviving parts and goes down to the hangar bay. 

There he gets into his fighter and, in the enclosed space, he finally allows himself to freak out.

_What in the Force was that back there?_

Those last few days have been bad enough already, with Obi-Wan gone on this crusade and Anakin trapped in his chambers, where he had the perfect view, a front row sit to the spectacle of Darth Melior's justice. 

And it had been quite the spectacle, if one likes explosions and laser beams and the silent screams of thousands upon thousands of being dying in said explosions, falling under the colorful rays coming out of destroyers' autocanons.

Something that Anakin certainly did _not_ enjoy, and the fact that he had laughed at dreams of such events... It meant nothing. It what he feels when he is awake that matters.

He hadn't laughed when the Open Circle had started targeting the planet... - _a good sign, right?_ \- He had seen Amberlene burn in the distance, transport ships gunned down as they were trying to escape the planet, and though they _had_ come here for war, somehow this hadn't looked like war, and certainly nothing like the usually carefully calculated strategy Obi-Wan usually privileged. No, it had been mindless bombing of cities and civilian ships, and Anakin doubted anyone would ever hear of the Mystril again, except to be told of their fall. 

The _Victus_ had maintained itself outside of the conflict, and even though Anakin had sensed Obi-Wan circling it, and even coming back on board once or twice, he had just _known_ he'd been leading the offensive, by the spikes of adrenaline that would wake him up in the middle of the night - or whenever he actually managed to get some sleep - and even once, an intense burning sensation in his left arm, as if he'd been hit by blaster fire. 

Adding to that were his own boredom, anxiety and anger, making him a restless, pacing mess until he decided to just sit down and try to meditate, something he knows he should just use as a last resort but make a daily habit. But even Obi-Wan had never managed to make him enjoy that. He's always been too impatient for it, and too prideful to admit that it could be good for him. 

Obi-Wan hadn't been wrong, when he had accused him of trying to bring him balance through meditation. _If he can make me feel the Dark Side through our bond, and have it influence me, maybe the other way around is also true,_ he'd realized after his first semi-successful attempt at reaching a meditative trance.

And it had worked, or else he wouldn't have been punished.

That's what it had been, wasn't it? This improvised sparring session... Obi-Wan had dragged him there to make him lose focus and to punish him for his attempt. Not in any physical way, though the sight of his panting, sweating Master could definitively be called torture, but verbally, psychologically... The sting in his words had been worse than the one in his arm when he had twisted it in his back.  

_How could he... I've given him everything! I've left the Order behind for him! I've left my Padawan to fend off for herself. I left my wife... And got my love for her destroyed as a only reward. How can he doubt my loyalty, when I would give my own life to save him?_

He wanted him to lose his cool? Well that had done the job. While they have fought each other plenty of time in mock duels, Anakin can't remember having once raised a hand against his Master with the purpose of _hurting_ him. 

And Obi-Wan had hit back. Hard. Mindlessly, Anakin even thinks. _Wants_ to think, maybe, because it would make this whole mess of a situation a little less painful.

He hadn't regretted it, though, that much was clear. And when he had pushed him on his back and straddled him... _Was he really hard or was I hallucinating?_ Anakin himself had been sporting a semi by then - and Force if that isn't fucked up - and it would have taken only Obi-Wan's eyes leaving his face and going south, or a jerk of his hips, and he would have noticed it for sure. And Anakin would have known for certain if Obi-Wan wanted him just as much as he did himself or if he'd seen what he wanted to see.

It wouldn't come out of nowhere at least. He's been daydreaming about such a situation for... He wants to to think "for months", but he has had fleeting thoughts of their sparring turning into something more for years now. All those time he had ended pinned down on the Training Halls mats, or a low powered blade an inch away from his throat and the hard line of his Master's body against his back... _You're married_ , he had reminded himself more than once. _He doesn't think of you like that. It's just sparring, Skywalker, get a grip._

But today had been different. No thought of Padmé had crossed his mind. Only frustration and offense at Obi-Wan's accusations and the need to show him just how much he mattered to him, how little loyalty he had left for the Order. _How could he even think I  would be still be there, just sparring with him, if I didn't valued him more than the Code? I would already be halfway across the galaxy by now, after what he pulled on me, if I didn't_ want _to be there with him._

He'd been so close from losing it. to just let go of his doubts and qualms - _and morals and promises and don't forget those last shreds of common sense, because damn if you don't need those..._

To let passion overcome him and get a taste of what the darkness has to offer. Let anger and lust take over and the Code be damned. He has broke it before and the world didn't stop. The balance didn't break. He's just a man amidst a galaxy full of billions of other beings, why would his actions matter? Why should he be mindful of his thoughts and feelings? For a prophecy he has never even heard more than allusions to?

Obi-Wan had tasted his blood, and Anakin had wanted to make him bleed in return. Bite his lips and lick into his mouth. Make him feel the pain he has make Anakin feel, work him up as much as the mere idea of him can work Anakin up...

But of course his bloody fantasies had been interrupted before he could make them become reality.

 _"The last ship"_ , the trooper had say, effectively diverting Obi-Wan's attention back to war. Making him leave Anakin without even a glance. And he had laid there until his heartbeat had slowed down and his blood flown away from his dick. 

Was Tarkin on board ship? Is Obi-Wan facing off the Admiral right now?

Anakin can't say he is worried. Tarkin may be good, but he is no Jedi... Or rather, no _Sith_. He doesn't have the Force and, call him biased, but he doesn't believe he would manage to beat Obi-Wan even if his Master _didn't_ had the Force. 

He wasn't one of the youngest High Council member ever for nothing, hasn't been put had the head of the armies just because of his handsome face. He's always been cunning, a brilliant strategist, and a remarkable fighter. And his fall only made him more dangerous, more ruthless. They have never been as efficient as they are now, and it might be in part because Palpatine isn't there anymore to cause confusion and chaos, but Anakin knows it's also because because Obi-Wan's methods, along with his motivations, have changed.

Tarkin doesn't stand a chance. And neither do his troops. Darth Melior isn't going to leave survivors.   

Anakin has tried to find in him the compassion those men and women deserve, sitting there in his starfighter. But he has come out of his introspective meditation seance empty handed. All he's able to muster is self pity and a mix of anger and longing for Obi-Wan, as once more his personal issues are taking up all his emotional and intellectual capacities, leaving nothing for anything that isn't himself, Obi-Wan and his losing battle against the Dark Side. 

So he's still sitting there, replaying their sparring session in his mind, thinking of death and blood and sex, and there Padmé is, calling him as if drawn by his sins, imaginary or real and she drops on him the worst news possible at the moment, and he's starting to wonder if the Force has abandoned him, as it saw how close he was to lose it to the Dark Side, and decided to punish him some more for his weakness, or if it's just playing with him, waiting for him to fail some more.

 

* * *

 

_I can't be a father._

_I can barely take care of myself, what would I do with a fucking_ child _?_

It deserves a family. A real one. With parents that love him, or her, and each other. And right now all Anakin feels toward Padmé is lingering resentment. No affection, or trust. He isn't even being honest with her. Hasn't  _considered_ being honest with her, as he was first too distraught by the sudden disappearance of any feelings he had for her, and then by his anger at learning she had planned Obi-Wan's death. 

And now this... This isn't helping at all. This is only making him resent her more, as it puts new responsibilities on him. Responsibilities he doesn't want. Nor should be given. He's the - sort of - apprentice of a Sith Lord, for Force sake! No one around him is safe. 

_But who's the biggest menace? Our enemies, whoever they are? Or Obi-Wan himself?_

_No. Not Obi-Wan. I'm going to bring him back..._ Though not for the reason he told Padmé.

This doesn't change his motivations. Telling her that he was doing this for their non-existent family is the easy way out of a conversation he would have given anything to not have. If there was a moment to have it, the one she had chosen to call was as far away from it as possible. 

The easy way out, for now. What will he do when he can't hide behind his quest anymore? He can't go back to her. He can't pretend like his heart doesn't belong to another, however insane and unnatural it is...

 _She would understand that. She would understand that this isn't something I wanted. That our relationship was a collateral damage of the war between the Light and the Dark -_ between Jedi and Sith, between the Masters and his Master. _She can't expect me to be strong enough to resist such things, can she?_

So maybe he can tell her the truth. Ask her to let him go. 

He doesn't have anything to give to this yet unborn being. Everything he has is being devoured by that bond between Obi-Wan and him. But Padmé… She’s strong. She can raise this child just fine without him, and will _want_ to raise this child. She has money, a family, friends. She isn't alone. And soon she'll be the most powerful woman in the galaxy - she's too good of a politician, of a _person_ , to lose this election. She will have the means to protect and raise their child right, away from the mess that is Anakin's life. 

How long is there left until it is born, he wonders. When have they...

_Oh, I think I know exactly when this happened._

His first night back on Coruscant in five months. He'd been drunk on Ambrostine... And had an open connection to a Dark Side fueled ritual. 

Horror is like a bucket of cold water, chilling him to the bone as the possible implications of it begin to come to him.  

_What if it's been corrupted? What if what Padmé gives birth to isn't a child, but some Dark Side creature, some Sith spawn hiding under a human face... What if..._

“Force, what do I do?” he moans to himself.

 __I need a drink_ _ _._

It probably won’t help, but he’ll feel less awful about potentially fucking up his unborn, unwanted child. Or it’ll make him feel worse, and then he’ll be ripe for the Dark Side and then he won’t care.

_Win-win._

No one keeps him from leaving the Victus, which he can't help but feel a little bit disappointed by - as if he needed more proof that something is definitively fucked up with him - because it probably means that Obi-Wan left without giving anymore thought about him.

Half an hour later he's walking the streets of Commenor's main space port. Night is setting over this part of the planet, but the city is bustling with the same kind of activity that worlds like Coruscant see at every hour of the day. Galactic commerce cares little for local solar cycles. And this place seems to be the kind that attract a lot of merchants, along with travelers and soldiers. The district he has chosen to explore is a wealthy looking one, with barely any sign of the Confederacy's occupation, or any indication that there is a war going on anywhere nearby.  

Hiding his face in the shadows of his cloak, he walks freely among the people he dedicated his life to protect for the first time in months. He has missed this, the freedom that walking around without a full unit of troopers surrounding him at all times, and he lets himself enjoy the feel of so many individual essences wading around him.

He's the reason all of those people are free today - if not alive - that those streets aren't being patrolled by units of B1, or whatever poor souls have been recruited to replace the dwindling Separatists troops. That the restaurants and bars lining the street aren't rubles, that the Confederacy's flag doesn't float above the glass and steel tower that looms over it. 

For the briefest moment, he feels like a hero again.

 

* * *

 

The place Anakin settles on is a rather discrete looking establishment, with only the music spilling through its door and the perception he has of several dozens of people moving inside indicating its function. 

Taking off his cloak, and swinging it over a shoulder, Anakin puts a cocky smile on his face and a swagger in his step, and walks in.

 

 

_A good choice._

The inside of the bar is dark, the lighting made up of spinning pink and blue orbs making it difficult to take in people's appearances without taking a good, long look. It'll help him keep his anonymity. Maybe. Anakin has the kind of face that's easy recognizable, especially now that he has that scar...   

He can only hope he doesn't have any enemy in the place - or fans, for that matters. Though he wouldn't say no to company. The attractive kind if the Force is with him.

He wants to relax, get on with the mood, but his instincts kick in, and he catch himself surveying the crowd, trying to see past the shadows and purple flashes.   

The crowd is a diverse one, made of representatives of species from all over the galaxy, though nothing he hasn't already seen. Except maybe... as he makes his way to the bar, he cross path with a man that seems human in every aspect, except for the dozen of tentacles sprouting from his back, each of them holding a drink high above the crowd as he makes his way to a table full of customers of various species.

_Well that's a new one._

"What will it be, sir?" the barman asks in Anakin's back, making him turn away from the strange scene. 

"I don't care. Something strong. And..." he waves a hand before the barman’s face. “You want to serve me for free."

“You know what?" the man says as if he just had the best idea ever, and all on his own? "Drinks on the house!”

“And you want to keep them coming,” he adds after a second of reflection.

“ _All_ the drinks,” the barman says with a wink.

He comes back a minute later with a fuming glass full of blood red liquid, that Anakin tastes carefully before shrugging and downing half of it in one go.

He goes a bit slower on the second half, studying the crowd, appraising the forms that the colorful lights reveal for a few seconds before they are plunged back into the shadows. 

 _This is nice_ , he thinks, _especially after having spent month surrounded by armor covered men that all look the same._

Being among drunk people is always a strange experience for Anakin. As alcohol breaks down the natural barriers around one's mind, their thoughts and emotions start leaking out of them, and since Anakin has never been the best at holding up his own walls - the Force sings too strong against his inner ear, and life around him is a constant hum inside his skull - it can get pretty... Intense.

"And what's a beauty like you is doing alone in a place like this?"

Anakin turns around, almost emptying his drink on the tentacle guy from earlier.

"Uh, drinking?"

"I can see that," the man laughs as he stabilize him by circling his waist with one of the strange, jet black appendages. Then his dark eyes open wide as he recognizes Anakin and his laugh dies in his throat.

"Oh. General Skywalker. I'm sorry, I didn't want to overstep..."

"It's fine," Anakin reassures him, not failing to notice that for all his words, the man still has his weird tentacle around him. Not that he really minds, but still. "I'm off duty, anyway."

"Are Jedi ever off duty?"

Anakin chuckles.

"We are when we are drinking. You wouldn't want to see how inappropriate my use of the Force gets after a few hours in a place like this..."

"It actually sounds like something I would really enjoy seeing," the man says with a grin and a raised eyebrow that make Anakin think their idea of "inappropriate use of the Force" might diverge a bit... 

_But maybe not that much. I can actually think of some ways to use it..._

"You want something to drink?" he asks, already hailing the barman for a refill.

Their raise their glasses and it's with a solemn voice that reminds Anakin a bit too much of a certain speech about faithful friendship and backup data that his new friend proclaims: 

"To your spectacular victory upon the Separatists troops and the liberation of Commenor!"

"You were there...?" Anakin trails in a silent request for the man's name. 

"Meran'avanar. You can call me Meran." He leans against the bar in a pose mirroring Anakin's. "Yes, I was there."

He doesn't say more on the subject, so Anakin decides to satisfy his curiosity.

"I don't want to be rude, but I don't think I've ever seen someone quite..." He gestures at the myriad of members undulating around them. "Like you. Where are you from, Meran?"

"Oh, I'm sure wouldn't have heard of the place, as it's quite remote and desolate. I've left it a long time ago, anyway. But if you want to know about _those_... I'm pretty sure they are some sort of parasite, though I can feel through them, and they mostly obey me. But that aside, I think I'm just as human as you are, General."

"Please, call me Anakin... You're not certain?"

"I haven't met anyone from my people since I've... left them." The way he says it, Anakin is starting to doubt that it was voluntary. "And I'm afraid I was too young to remember any biology lesson." 

"Well if it helps, I have no idea how I was conceived." Meran's eyebrows shoot up, to Anakin's amusement. "And by that I don't mean that I don't know how reproduction works. I mean that reproduction... Didn't actually happened. And yet here I am."

So they drink to the mysteries of life. 

"So what are you doing now, Meran?"

"Well, I'm glad you're asking... Anakin, and I can't actually believe I have the opportunity to talk to you directly about it. What a wonderful coincidence! You see, I've recently joined this..."

"There you are!" 

A blue skinned woman emerges from the crowd, only to glue herself at Meran's side, looking up at Anakin with wide eyes.

“… and this is the delightful Ria Kazar,” Meran says, hanging an arm over the woman’s shoulder. “Ria this is Anakin Skywalker.”

“I know, Meran, I have eyes!" she exclaims, hitting said arm playfully. Then she sets her eyes back on Anakin and bows her head slightly - or tries to, the final result being more of an awkward bobbing. She's clearly intoxicated, but who is Anakin to judge? He can't even tell how many drinks he has swallowed, and he hasn't even been there that long.. "Good evening, General.”

“Uh, good evening Ria.”

“So, as I was saying to Anakin… We’re part of a group of people who have grown tired of the Senate’s inefficiency." He holds up two hands, as if anticipating for protest. "But we’re still wishing for unity, and we thoughts the Confederacy was... A rather foolish idea. But while we desire peace, we also understand it won’t come without some sacrifices. That’s why we’ve been following your…  _Exploits_ , with the greatest interest. As you seem to be the third option we’ve been looking for.”

“The third…”

“Oh, yes, a third is always welcome,” Ria pipes in, winking at Anakin, who chokes on his drink, prompting Meran to tap him lightly on the back with the tentacle still resting there, in a gesture more commiserating than practical. Is she really saying what he thinks she’s saying?

"The more the merrier, that's what I always say," Meran chuckles, confirming what Anakin is suspecting. "After all, no one ever changed the established order alone..." Or not. Are they mocking him or is the general state of inebriation of the crowd really messing up with his cognitive faculties? "Lucky for us, the people's favor seems..." 

"Wait!" Anakin interrupts him, holding up both his free hand and his glass. "So, you think _we_ are that third option?" 

"Well isn't it your party line?" Ria asks. "Though maybe "party" isn't the best word. Two men and an army can hardly qualify as such."

"But that's why we think you're the best option the Republic has," Meran empresses himself to inform Anakin, as if fearing he would take offense in the fact that they don't, apparently, qualify as a party.

To be honest, Anakin has still some trouble understanding where they're getting at. 

"Are you talking about a coup?" he asks, speaking as low as the music permits it. "Because the Senate will never let us take the reigns..."

"I guess we are," Mera replies, looking a bit puzzled by Anakin's reaction, as if it's something he was supposed to know about.

_Well, I kind of knew... What else could a Sith want if not ruling over the galaxy? That's all they have tried to do since their order's creation._

But he hadn't realized Obi-Wan's plan was already so advanced in its realization that people like Meran and Ria are participating in it. Those two don't seem like spies or military. They look like merchants. Wealthy and sophisticated. Maybe they have some interests in politics, but he has never heard of them before. Not the kind of people he would have chose to be at the forefront of such a movement. 

"We think... that the galaxy needs a strong hand to put it back in the right path. And I know for a fact that there are many across the galaxy that think that way."

Anakin nods, taking a sip of his drink. He does agree himself, though he doesn't think that that hand should be Obi-Wan's. Not in the state he is right now at least. They need someone strong, and that he is, but they also need someone _good_ , and he's been seriously lacking in that department lately.

"That's what I said to..." he says, choosing to focus on the idea rather than the person. "To this... _friend_ , that one time. She looked at me like I had gone crazy. Like only _democracy_ could be good. But just look at what happens when the government can't make up its mind. The Senate has been tearing itself apart, between those who are too afraid to take direct actions and the bankers always wanting _more_ , and those who are so self centered that they could just as well become Separatists for all they care about the good of the galaxy..."

It's been a long time since Anakin has let himself get this animated while talking politics, he realizes as the conversation goes on. Jedi were discouraged to even _think_ about it, even when they were forced to navigate them  because of the Order's involvement.

And even with his own _wife_... Padmé and him didn't agree on most of those things, and he hadn't wanted to alienate her further after that day he had spoke his mind on Naboo and seen her reaction to it. So he had mostly went along with her ideas, because he loved her and didn't want them to fight. He'd only wished she had the same consideration for him.

He has scarcely thought about it since the day of the Senate Massacre, having much more important things on his mind, but it had started to put a strain on their relationship, in the end. Those three weeks without seeing each other, just before it happened... It wasn't just because of the war. They'd had a fight. Anakin was growing tired of dodging her requests of intervention. She used to think that just because he and Palpatine were close that he could influence the Chancellor - but the truth had been that Palpatine was the one influencing him, if everything Obi-Wan has told him about the man is true - or that he could take decisions in the name of the Order just because he was authorized to sit on the high Council. But he wasn't a Master, and Jedi weren't supposed to participate in the Republic's politics. Two facts that she seemed to keep forgetting, asking him again and again to take actions that served her agenda, and never-mind if he didn't agree.

So he had snapped, finally. Had shouted things at her that he can't - and don't really care to - remember, and stormed out of the apartment. That night, three weeks later, had been his way to make amends. 

"Do you know..." Anakin says with a low voice, interrupting whatever Ria is rambling about - something about some Senator's wife, he thinks? - and forcing his two drinking companions to lean toward him to hear what he's saying. "That Palpatine was the one who started this war? I mean, intentionally. Not just because he was incompetent... He was actually far more competent than we all thought. He had agents occupying all kinds of ranks in the Confederacy, I've been told."

Ria gasps, and Meran looks at him with a frown.

"Is that why General Kenobi killed him?" Ria asks. 

"Yes."

"We knew he was corrupted but this..." 

As he explains to them what he can remembers of what Obi-Wan has told him about Sidious - minus the fact that he was a Sith - Anakin can't help but notice how the two seem to be getting... Very tactile. In a way that would probably find invasive if not for the smoking liquid Anakin keeps on drinking, and the fact that they are both very, very good looking.

Ria's hands frequently grip his naked biceps - though it might just be so she keeps her equilibrium - or absentmindedly play with the silver clasps closing his jacket.

One of Meran's tentacles is toying with a strand of his hair, glides against Anakin's neck every now and then as it undulates, smooth against his skin, and he wonders what the man meant when he said that the appendages _mostly_ obey him.

Anakin is recounting them one of his favorite tales of Obi-Wan and him conducting aggressive negotiations when he has to stop mid-sentence as vertigo takes him over. For a second he thinks that he has finally reached his limit alcohol-wise, but then something even weirder happens. It a smell, familiar and arousing, and he takes a deep breath before calling out in a shaky breath:

"Obi-Wan?"

But the only answer he gets is in the sudden clench of his jaw and the tightened grip of his fingers on his glass.

And then the sensation is gone and Meran and Ria are looking at him with confused expressions.

"Sorry, I think I drank to much..."

That's when something - or rather, _someone_ \- catches his attention, and then makes him look at his drink suspiciously because...

Well, fuck him, is that _Ventress?_

She taps on Meran's shoulder and with a tip of the head toward the door, signals him that their little group is ready to go. 

Her eyes fall on the tentacle still around Anakin's waist. It's finally retreating, but too late for her to not notice it, and her smirk makes Anakin want to punch her in the mouth.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, General. But we must go now. I think we'll meet again."

Ria smiles at him and kisses him drunkenly on the cheek before taking Ventress's arm as if they're life-long friends and they make for the door, chatting animatedly about 

"Well that was weird," Anakin says aloud. 

The enigma of Ventress's presence and behavior aside, them leaving is kind of... Disappointing. 

_They got my imagination working... A bit._

It would probably have been pretty spectacular sex. Then again, after _ten months -_ since he has had sex he can actually remember _-_ anything would have been spectacular.

_Ten months since I came looking at Obi-Wan's face._

Oh sure, it was Padmé who had worked him up, Padmé he was thrusting into, Padmé whose lithe fingers were digging into his back... But it hadn't been her moans tipping him over the edge.  

It had been the knowledge that _Obi-Wan_ was watching him.

_Force, I really need to get laid._

 

 

* * *

 

 

He hasn't been alone for five minute than a zabrak comes up to him, swinging her hips enticingly in her silvery dress, and smiling at him tentatively but he just ignores her, feeling a bit like a dick for doing so but he doesn't want to lose his time with someone he has no interest in. He doesn't want a woman tonight, though he wouldn't have said no to Ria, as she seemed to be coming in a package with Meran, but now that they're gone...

He wants strong arms and large hands. He wants to be pinned down and filled up... Maybe. Not like he has given more thought to it than... _Liar_. _You've thought about it. You've done barely anything but think about it those last months._  

He wants Obi-Wan.

But that guy over there will do.

Reclining against the bar once more, Anakin sips on his drink, studying the broad back of the tall man talking animatedly with a rhodian a table over. 

Something about the tall figure seems familiar, though from this point of view Anakin would be damned if he could tell what. There is also something in the Force...

 _I'll wait for them to be done,_ he decides, as they don't seem on very friendly term. More likely a deal is being made. _Then maybe I'll talk to him._

Losing in his own thoughts, Anakin takes out the vial of spice, turning it between his finger, admiring the way the glittering liquid catches the ever moving blue and pink light. 

_I'm going to do it. As soon has he comes back._

That way he wouldn't have lied to Padmé. Not too much. Not more than she deserves. 

"Hey, I know you!"

Anakin only has a few seconds to hide the vial and syringe into his bracer before a hand clamps down on his shoulder. His own hand flies to his belt but... _You fucking idiot, what's wrong with you going out without your lightsaber?_  

He's turned away from the bar - this time effectively spilling half of his drink - and is met by a somewhat familiar face. It belongs to the man whose back he was looking at a bit earlier. 

"Your boyfriend stole my ship!"

_Oh. It's that smuggler from Dochidna. What was his name again..._

Can't Anakin walk into a bar without crossing path he has an history with?

 _Thanks for nothing_ , he thinks at the Force.

"Where did you get the idea he was my boyfriend?" Anakin asks, swaying a little. He rests his weight back against the bar, leaning on his elbows and looking the man up and down. He's rather handsome, he has to admit, though it doesn't really do much to alleviate the rush of jealousy he feels when he recalls in what circumstances Obi-Wan stole that ship.

"Your face when I said he seduced me? Yeah, that face," the smuggler says with a chuckle, pointing at Anakin. "Also... You're Anakin Skywalker, ain't you?" Anakin just sighs before emptying what's left of his drink and placing it on the bar to be refilled. "So that would make the other one Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Took you so long to understand that?" 

"No. It took me an hour after you left Dochidna. To be perfectly honest with you, Anakin, I spent my whole week there high on some particularly good spice... It was only starting to lift up when we met. And there I was, without a ship, with cargo I couldn't move, and the knowledge had been fucked by a renegade Jedi... In every sense of the term."

_Oh you're so lucky I don't have my lightsaber right now._

The idea that this man has seen a side of Obi-Wan he hasn't... It gives him murderous urges.

But he's also curious. Was Obi-Wan genuinely interested by this guy? Or did he seduce him with the sole purpose of stealing his ship? Anakin doesn't like it, but it's probably the former. Lucian's ship was a piece of junk. Even Obi-Wan knew that. He could have stolen better, even on Dochidna. 

He wants to know if there is something that guy has that he doesn't.

"Tell me..."

Shit, he really can't remember the man's name.

The smuggler rolls his eyes, his thin lips distorting in a way Anakin isn't sure is more amused or bitter. 

"Lucian Kobel."

"Sorry, _Lucian_. It's been quite some time..."

"And I'm just some low life from the Outer Rim, I get it, Master Jedi."

 _Master Jedi._ It's been quite some time since anyone has called him that. 

"No! That's not it! It's just..."

"Hey, don't worry, I'm just messing with you." Grabbing a stool, the man sits down, close enough that his knees are nudging Anakin's legs. "So you finally caught up with _him_. Seems like things are going pretty well for you two. With that big army of yours..." 

"And you seem to be doing pretty good for yourself," Anakin cuts in. He has talked enough about the war tonight. "You're far away from the Chidna System."

"Ah, well. Dochidna was just a pit stop that turned into a vacation that turned into me being stranded on a planet that is a lot less fun when you run out of spice. Luckily I happen to be one of the best... Freight pilot... On this side of the Corellian. So finding a new ship and getting back to work was just a matter of days. "

"I don't doubt it. You seemed to have quite the reputation even on Dochidna. You got pointed to me by at least ten different people."

"What do you want," Lucian replies with a laugh. "I am a friendly man. Wherever I go..." Leaning toward Anakin, he smiles flirtatiously. "You're even cuter up close, you know..."

Anakin laughs, amused by the unsubtle change of subject. _Oh you went up close all right the last time..._ He remembers clearly having been crowded in like never before, probably because most people are too intimidated to come near him, once they know who he is. And outside undercover missions - which have been getting rarer as his fame grew - everyone he's been in direct contact with was either belonging to the military - or the Jedi - or intent on killing him.

Not really ideal for flirting.

_Not that being in the midst of a duel to death has ever kept Obi-Wan from flirting..._

And he hadn't been interested, what with being married and all.

But now... 

"Oh, am I?" 

Anakin freezes, his glass halfway to his lips, and he barely hears Lucian's answer. It doesn't really matter anyway. There is more important things happening outside. 

Obi-Wan's here.

Anakin can feel his presence. He's going to walk through the door any moment now.

With a sly grin as his only warning, Ankin hooks an arm around the smuggler's neck and brings his face down so their lips can meet. 

He likes to think he's a good kisser. Padmé has never complained... And Lucian sure isn't, if his groan and the way he grabs Anakin's ass with his free hand are anything to go by.

That's when the room goes quiet.

The silence isn't total, of course, there is still music, though it is quieter than it was earlier in the evening. And there is no way such an amount of inebriated people would be able to restrain themselves enough to permanently shut up as something as exciting is happening, even with half a dozen Clone Troopers aiming their blasters at them. 

With a push to the smuggler's chest, Anakin detaches himself from the man, and smiling smugly, picks up the drink waiting for him and leans back on the bar.

"Anakin."

"Oh, hello there, Obi-Wan," he responds. He doesn't have to look at him to sense the rage coming off of him, and he allows himself to imagine he's the cause of it for a few seconds, smiling in to his glass. "You want something to drink? I don't know what _this_ is, but it tastes fantastic, you should have a try..."

"Would you look at that!" Lucian exclaims, apparently only noticing that they have company. "What's the saying again? _'Where there is Kenobi, Skywalker is never far behind'_? Seems like the other way around is also true."

"It seems so," Obi-Wan replies, and Anakin is surprised by apparent calmness, as he can so clearly feel the maelstrom of emotions raging inside him, though he's having a hard time picking up one dominant thought.

He puts his hand on Anakin's upper arm, cold against his naked skin, making him shiver, but not as much as the tone he uses to give out what is unmistakably an order.

"Let's go."

"Hey, we were having a conversation here, General!" Lucian protests, either oblivious to the mood or actually dumb enough to want to pick a fight with the most dangerous man in the galaxy. 

 _Oh this isn't going to end well_ , Anakin realizes, as he finally glances at his Master, though he finds it hard to actually care. This is actually quite fun to watch, those two men measuring each other - _though they probably know each other's measure quite well_ , he can't help but think , and if that isn't an annoying idea - Obi-Wan standing there in his singed clothes, a bandage covering his left forearm and his hair as much of a mess as Anakin has ever seen them, staring down a smuggler with as much fury on his face as he would, say, the entire Jedi Order.

Meanwhile Lucian has his thumbs hooked in his belt, looking just as arrogant and sure of himself as the first time Anakin saw him - _before I used the Force on him and then he was just a distressed, useless, way over his head, not even that hot_   _random guy who got duped by who he thought was a harmless traveler_ \- thinking he can hold his own against Obi-Wan Kenobi in a battle of wits... Or an actual battle. One of the smuggler's hand has moved, and he's now thumbing his blaster.

Obi-Wan's grip on Anakin's arm getting stronger with every second that passes and while some part of him recognize he ought to shake it off before he ends up with a hand shaped bruise on his biceps, the rest is just to absorbed by the situation at hand, awaiting the inevitable outcome.

"Just... Fuck off, before I kill you."

"Oh, I don't think I'm gonna. You stole my ship. I think I'll steal your boy-t..."

Obi-Wan's lightsaber swings is to quick for Anakin do anything about it, even if he had wanted to. The crimson plasma blade is sticking out the smuggler's back before the man has even realized he was being attacked, and it takes a few seconds to the crowd to react to it as well. Then the screaming starts, and the bars empties of its patrons, leaving only them, the barman and two scantily clad waitresses, climbing to each other. The troopers that came in with Obi-Wan are nowhere to be seen, probably guarding the entrance from the outside. 

Lucian's body falls to the ground between him and Obi-Wan, the blade forging a smoking path across his upper body as it stays both horizontal and ignited, 

"You can go," Anakin tells the two woman, who give a brief glance at he barman before leaving as well. "You stay." He needs a refill and no way he's getting behind the bar to do it himself. He's actually unsure if he could walk around it with falling face first on the ground right now. 

The man's hands are trembling as he serves him, but he does it nonetheless, probably still compelled by the Anakin's Force suggestion of keeping the drinks coming from earlier. That or he's too afraid to be the next body to fall if he tries to run.

“What the fuck was that?” Obi-Wan asks, finally powering off his lightsaber and hooking it to his belt.

Anakin looks away from Lucian's body, only to blink at Obi-Wan.

"What? You're the one who just..." 

_Killed a man over a kiss._

No. it wasn't the kiss. Lucian provoked him. That's all this is.

“You don’t do that, you hear me?”

 _That_ pisses Anakin off. Whatever he's talking about Anakin isn't the one in the wrong here, and this has nothing to do with hierarchy or their Master-Apprentice relationship, or even putting himself in danger. _Obi-Wan_ is the one that brought the danger here. Everyone was doing just fine before he came down on Commenor.

“Why? I thought the Sith were free.”

There’s something so intense about the way Obi-Wan’s golden eyes bore into him, it makes Anakin knees weak when he's trying to hold his ground. Chase away the assurance he has been displaying until then, planting into him the certitude that all this was a mistake, because what can he possibly do against such a pull? Was he really hopping to just fuck some random guy and be happy with it? No, he wouldn't have enjoyed it. He would have spent the whole time thinking about his Master and

Whatever side of the Force he's on, he isn't free.

"You're no Sith yet, as long as you hold up to that idea of being _good_..." _Which you aren't,_ says a voice in Anakin's head. A voice that has Obi-Wan's accent, but since when can he hear his thoughts?  _That corpse at your feet is your doing._ "And even if you were..." Obi-Wan take a deep, shuddering breath, as if he can't bear _thinking_ of what he's about to say, let alone verbalize it, but he just _have to_. "You don't just don't _leave..."_

Anakin barely registers the barman leaving, and if he actually cared, he would certainly not blame the man from wanting to escape the room. given the palpable tension that reigns in it.

"You're the one who left!" he shouts.

But Anakin knows his protest his falling on death ears, he just knows it. By the white hot anger that runs back and forth through their bond, by the undercurrent of sheer _pain_ running under it, by the fire burning in those golden eyes fixed upon him. He could say anything right now, and it wouldn't matter.

"You can't just disappear and..." Obi-Wan trails, rubbing at his forehead as if Anakin's the headache hiding behind it. Then he lets his hand fall and makes a vague gesture at the room. "Why are you even here? What can you possibly need in a place like..."

"I just came down for a fucking drink!" Anakin shouts, and suddenly this feels very much like one of those time he wold slip away from the Temple and, what ever excuse he would give, he would always end up grounded. "Force Obi-Wan you _locked me up_ all week..."

And just like when he was his Padawan, Obi-Wan isn't giving a shit about his reasons.

But what he's ranting about... _That_ 's different.

"Whatever you need..." He almost growls, pacing on the other side of Lucian's corpse. "You think you're going to find it with _scum_ like him? No. You fucking come to _me_.”

He stops then, fixing his burning gaze on Anakin who, for a few seconds, is left speechless. Is that it? Is that thing between them finally coming out in the open? 

Against his will, indignation and resentment vanish as if they'd never been there - with just a few ambiguous words... _Force_ , he's so easy - and need takes over.

_I want to hear him say it._

Stepping over the body lying between them, Anakin straightens up, and looking down at his Master, he sneers, putting as much contempt and mockery in his voice as he is able.

"Oh, now I see what it is." 

He has rarely used his height against him - a mostly subconscious behavior, he thinks. He’d been so used to Obi-Wan being this larger than life figure, this invincible warrior, the legends of the Jedi come to life... _He_ was the one looking up to him, no the other way around, even when he actually became taller than him.   
But now it’s his only advantage, he realizes as he steps forward, towering over his Master so that Obi-Wan has too look up to keep meeting his eyes. his only advantage, when he has drunk Force knows how much and is a downright mess when it comes to this man even sober. 

“So you want a piece of the Chosen One, that it? Just like that guy did…”

_Mhm, should I tell him about tentacle guy and his blue friend?_

He toys with the idea for a second, but what actually comes out of his mouth next surprises Anakin himself, as he reveals one of his most shameful secrets in one breath and denies the feelings that are the source of it in the very next.

"Well you know what? You could have had me. Weeks - no, _months_ ago. But you didn’t _do_ anything. I was getting bored," he concludes dismissively. 

It's a subtle change, how Obi-Wan's expressions goes from anger to hunger, and Anakin would doubt his eyes if their through their bond wasn't suddenly surging this very same heat wave that came and went seemingly randomly for the last months, that all encompassing feeling of _want_ that made his dreams stickier than most and his strategy meeting uncomfortable in the most maddening way.

"So what you mean..." Obi-Wan says, taking a step forward and forcing Anakin to step back with only the weight of his unwavering stare. "Is that I could have you, right now?"

"No," Anakin lies, mouth suddenly gone dry. "You killed the mood," he tries to justify himself, gesturing vaguely at the smuggler's corpse.

Why he's even trying, though, he isn't really sure. He _wants_ this. He _has_ to do this. There's no point in stalling anymore, except maybe saving some of what's left of his pride.

His back hits the bar, then, and his breath catches in his throat as Obi-Wan closes the gap between them, before slowly, almost carefully - almost, because Obi-Wan doesn't doesn't do careful anymore, does he? - raising his hand to Anakin's face and, as if he's merely picking things where they left them earlier, places his thumb on Anakin's lower lip, where the skin tore open.

As if on its own volition, Anakin's mouth opens, letting out the breath he's been holding in, along with a chocked whine. That makes Obi-Wan smirks triumphantly and he leans forward, the tip of his nose brushing Anakin's cheek.

“Liar,” he growls against his ear.

Pulling Obi-Wan by the lapel and bringing him flush against him feels like the most evident reaction to this accusation.

"Always seeing through me."

Their first kiss is a violent thing, the collision of two beings too proud to be soft, too keyed up to care, too used to pain to notice. A smash of lips and teeth as they rush against each other, that turns into a hot, slippery dance as Anakin opens his mouth to let Obi-Wan's tongue in. 

There's a chorus of furiously victorious shouts echoing in his head, though they are quickly drowned by the pump of his own blood in his ears and _can you faint from being kissed?_ That would be just his luck, to get what he's been wanting for so long only to pass out from it.  

Obi-Wan quickly gets back in control, flipping them around and pushing Anakin against a deserted table until he’s half sitting on it, making glasses fall and break around them, and alcohol vapors fill in the air. He then racks his fingers in Anakin's hair, before grabbing a fistful of it, tearing an embarrassingly loud moan out of him.

"I _knew_ it," Obi-Wan says, tearing away from Anakin to mouth at his throat. "You love that don't you?"

He doesn't get any intelligible answer though, first off because Anakin isn't going to admit that yes, he loves it very much and secondly, he's pretty sure he instantly loses all capacity for coherent speaking as Obi-Wan slots a knee between his thighs, the top of his thigh rubbing against Anakin's cock where it's almost painfully constricted by those Force damned pants.

Anakin opens his legs for him, hiking his knees up to frame Obi-Wan's hips, all the while thinking _that's it, that's how I die_. And a second later he has the troubling thought that yes, this might actually be how he dies, and not just from sheer elation, as Obi-Wan's hands leave his hair and to caress his neck, and with an all too sudden clarity, Anakin knows Tarkin perished by those hands, and he knows the rush of victory that comes with crushing a man’s windpipe with his only his own physical strength as a tool, without the Force as an intermediary.

But that thought quickly leaves both of their minds, and Obi-Wan's fingers don't tighten around his throat, but trace his collarbones and slide over the exposed expanse of his chest, before getting to work on his jacket, the silver clasps closing it not lasting long under his nimble fingers, and he runs his palm over Anakin's stomach, a cool counterpoint to the heat that's pooling in his guts, the sensation of his rough palms so different than what Anakin is used to, so welcome when the now faded memories of Padmé have taken such a sour taste...

Anakin almost forgets why he’s doing all this in the first place - or why he should have been doing it, except that he forgot, didn't he?

And it’s why it works.

He has avoided thinking about it as much as he could while in Obi-Wan’s presence, having no doubt that his Master would sense any attack coming from him before he could even get out the vial out of his bracer.

He slides his hand over the warm skin of his neck and into the soft strands of hair above one last time before hooking his artificial arm around it, extracting the vial from his bracer with two extended fingers.

And then he plunges it into Obi-Wan's neck.

“What… What did you do?” Obi-Wan's hands and mouth leave him, his eyes going wide and panic making its way onto his face as his perception of the Living Force starts to dissipate and he takes the measure of Anakin's betrayal. “NO! No, no, no… Anakin… I can't feel you... ANAKIN!”

Anakin wants to scream with him. This is not right. This is just like losing a limb all over again.

"I'm sorry," he sobs, reaching toward his distressed Master, but Obi-Wan is stumbling back, the drug disorienting him, and he eludes Anakin as much physically as he does in the Force and _stars, who thought it was a good idea... It's not. It's just the worst..._ "I'm so sorry, but it's the only way..."

“WHAT DID YOU DO???”

"It's the Dark Side, Obi-Wan, I can't reach you when it's so strong within you..."

But it's too late for any explanation. The spice, one of the strongest variety in the galaxy, is doing its job even more rapidly and brutally than he he'd thought. Obi-Wan's body is seizing and trembling, and his voice breaking in a moan that seem half pleasure half pain, and it's probably a good thing that their connection has been broken, because he there is no way this wouldn't have an impact on Anakin too if it wasn't.

He would gladly take that over their bond disappearing.

“… Anakin…”

His eyes rolls backward in their orbits, and Anakin barely manage to catch him before he falls, almost crashing down with him under the conjugated efforts of the alcohol he's been drinking all night and his own distress.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats as he cradles his Master's body in his arms, before hoisting him up and stumbling his way to the back door of the bar.

The fresh air of the night clears his head a bit, though he could do without the smell of trash that permeates the alley. 

Adjusting his hold on the passed out form of his Master, Anakin starts down the street. 

Anakin gets his fair share of curious looks as he walks the still well frequented streets, but he could not give less of a shit about it if he tried. He just wants to get to a ship.

Looking upward, he sees fighters and troop transport descending from the sky, from where he knows the _Victus_ is orbiting Commenor.

The clones guarding the bar's front entrance have been quick to call upon their brothers.

_I have to get out of here._

_What is this?_ he wonders halfway to where he let his own fighter - not that he will take it to leave, as it is a one place one, but he can buy or steal something there - as he feels something wet running down his cheek, prompting him to look up. But the skies are still clear, save for the ever growing number of ship coming on their way to planetfall. 

_Stop crying, Skywalker. You're supposed to be stronger than this._

But he doesn't feel strong right now. He feels weaker that ever, actually. And alone. So fucking alone. 

"I'm going to fix this," he murmurs against Obi-Wan's ear, holding him tight against his chest. "You won't like it. Maybe you'll hate me for a while... But then things will go back to how they're supposed to be."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just tryin to make good on my promise to destroy Anakin's liver.  
> And his heart also.  
> What? I didn't promise that? Well too bad am doing it anyway.


	21. Fire in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a long ass time. Sorry? :D  
> Also: +100k party!!!

 

Anakin has to enter the code to the middle sized hangar where he docked his fighter three times before getting it right. His hands are trembling, and having to support the weight of a fully grown man isn't easy when you're still mostly drunk and psychically distressed. 

His tears have dried on his cheeks a few minutes ago, but he still feels like throwing up, in equal parts because of the alcohol churning in his stomach and of the void that greets him every-time he seeks out Obi-Wan in the Force, which is every few seconds. It's not that he's forgetting - how could he - but his mind is so used to having a constant companion that  _something_  - neurons maybe, or that thing that some cultures call the soul - in his head has been in a state of constant panic for the last hour, throwing tendrils like thoughts into the ether, searching for a connection that can't happen as long as Obi-Wan is cut out. 

"Sorry," he says, carefully lowering Obi-Wan to the ground. He just needs to get his lightsaber and his comm from the cockpit.

He also takes advantage of having his hands free to finally close his jacket, which he does with trembling fingers, thinking about how it got opened...

He knows it makes him even more of an egoistic asshole, but he's not only regretting going through with his plan because of what it has done to their bond, but also because of what he interrupted. 

He won't have another chance again, he knows it. Once Obi-Wan is back to normal, he will lose all interest in Anakin. He'll say something about the Dark Side pushing him to corrupt his apprentice, and that it would be for the best if they both forget about it. 

But Anakin won't forget. 

He won't forget how it felt to finally give in, to go for what he's been craving for so long, and to see his hunger reflected in his Master's eyes and mind. He won't forget how it was to have all of Obi-Wan's focus on him. He won't forget the taste of his mouth and the feel of his hands. How it made him tremble with anticipation to be pushed down and held close by him.

It had felt like flying through the most chaotic battle, except he had welcomed his enemy's shots instead of trying to avoid them like he would have done blaster fire. But it procured him the same sense of urgency, the same rush of adrenaline that made both flight and fight feel like the sweetest spice and battle something to be looking forward... and then he had crash landed, the last of a long series of voluntary, exceedingly rough planetfalls, and Commenor had been under his feet once again, gravity reclaiming him and crushing him, and all he had been left with was a dying hard on and an empty vial. 

He shakes himself at that sobering thought, throwing a guilty look at Obi-Wan's unconscious form when he realizes what he's been doing. 

_Not the right time, Skywalker._

He'll have plenty of time on whatever ship he finds to think about that. Not that he should. No, he should bury the night's events deep, never revisit those memories. 

He knows he won't do it, though. He'll keep replaying it again and again in his head, and imagine a thousand ways the night could have gone if things had been different.

He hauls Obi-Wan up to his feet, this time swinging his limp arm over his shoulder and holding him up against him by the waist. They won't have far to go. There's dozens of ships around here. Any of them will do, as long as there is room to put his unconscious Master.

_That one._

He doesn't really know what pushes him to chose that particular ship, so it might be the Force leading him to it. Or maybe the echoes of Obi-Wan's presence on board, he realizes as four Clone Troopers come out of it, blocking his way and pointing their blaster at him.

"I'm taking this ship," Anakin says, holding his chin up, trying to look like he hasn't gone through an emotional ringer those last few - hours? days?  _months?_  - like he's still the Jedi he was meant to be. Like he could tear them apart and not feel a thing about it if he thought for one second that they were endangering his mission. "You can come with or let me through."

"Sorry General, but we're not going to let you leave," one of the clones replies. His voice sounds strange even trough the filter of his helmet, as if the man inside the armor is dead... Not that Anakin has heard a lot of dead talk, but that voice definitively sounds like he imagine one would. "And he's staying too."

Did Obi-Wan manage to leave them one last order before being entirely cut off from the Force? Or is Sith sorcery stronger even than the tides of the Force, making them stay loyal even when the link between them and their master has been broken?

"Alright, so I'm just gonna..."

Anakin takes a step back, and the troopers take one forward, then speak, their four voices rising as one:

" _Give us Lord Melior_."

"Okay, guys, you are starting to seriously creep me out here."

They take out their blasters, aiming them at him. 

The Dark Side corrupts all it touches, and now Anakin knows he's been naive to not think that the Clones would come out of this unmarred. They're closing in on him, their stance menacing, and he knows right then that they're lost to the Dark Side. He can feel it, emanating from them in somber, whispering waves of sinister intent.

And he can't save  _them_. He doesn't have the time. And he doesn't have the drive. 

_Masks covering masks. All the same. What's a few losses when what's at stake is so unique, would be lost for ever if I don't do anything..._

He can live with anonymous replicas of friends being dead - has seen thousands of them die already. He can't live without Obi-Wan at his side. 

So he kills them. 

He lowers Obi-Wan to the ground once more, pushing him gently out of the way with the Force, and faces the four anonymous soldiers. His lighstaber is in his hand an instant later, the crimson plasma of its blade turning the hangar in a theater of shadows as he waves it around, slashing at limbs and piercing armors and the skin beneath with, the white material bubbling around his blade and filling the air with the smell of burning plastoid and human flesh. 

A minute or so later - he doesn't know, really, all he knows is that it went quickly. Even the best trained clones can't held up long against a Jedi - there's only one left alive. 

He's crawling toward the ship, one hand clutching his wounded abdomen. And he's  _laughing_.

Anakin catches him by his helmet, stopping his crawl and holding his head so that his throat is on display.

"What's so funny?" he asks. 

"We're winning, Jedi. You can kill them but you can't hurt us. We're multitude and you're just one man. And soon you'll join us too. Darkness will fall."

Anakin cuts his head off when he starts laughing again.

His heart is beating in his ears, and he thinks for a good half a minute that he's going to throw up. Then he just sits down on the ground next to the dead trooper and starts to laugh, a broken echo to the forever silent voice of the trooper he just killed.

"What the fuck was that?" he asks aloud to the armored corpses surrounding him. 

Of course they give him no answer, and he hauls himself upright so he can get Obi-Wan into the ship. The last steps he takes with him in his arms seems like the heaviest yet, and he thanks the Force for allowing him to carry his Master to a bed without dropping him halfway. 

He'll be asleep for about forty hours, enough time to get where he has planed to take him. 

The vial he injected Obi-Wan with isn't the only one he bought, though it was the only one he took with him to Coruscant. 

When Obi-Wan wakes up, there will be other doses awaiting him. Less concentrated, they'll only cut him off from the Force, maybe give him the kind of effects one might expect from spice - hopefully making him more permeable to suggestion - but he'll stay conscious.

Once their course is set and they've entered hyperspace, Anakin goes back to the cabin and lays down next to Obi-Wan.

He falls asleep listening to his Master breathing.

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka looks down at the string in her hand, thumbing idly at the beads she has worn for years, and then looks back at the sprawl of Coruscant under the edge of Padmé's terrace. The sun is setting over Republic City, its orange ray bouncing from transparisteel facades and passing ships. It's a stunning sight, truly, but her mind is light years away, and the city could be truly aflame for all she cares. 

Just like everyday for nearly nine months, she's thinking of her Master, and what's he's up to, wherever he is. And wishing he was here, rather than roaming the Galaxy looking after Obi-Wan Kenobi - or following him into the fire. 

She wishes they were  _both_  here. And that they could have seen her be knighted. That Anakin would have cut her braid, instead of Master Windu.

She's one of the youngest Knight ever, she's been told, but even if it wasn't against the Code, she can quite manage to be proud of that fact. She's only be knighted so soon because she had to assume the roles of her missing Masters, and did an okay job at it.

_But only because Obi-Wan weakened them before I was put in charge._

Sure there was still Dooku and Grievous leading the Separatist troops, but even them had had some troubles managing the armies with half of the Confederacy leaders dead. 

Or maybe it was thanks to Palpatine's death.

Anakin has told her of Obi-Wan's claims. That he killed the Chancellor because he was a Sith Lord.  _The_  Sith Lord. The one behind the Separatist Movement. The one who ordered for the Clone Army to be made. Darth Tyrannus's Master, and before him the zabrak that killed Obi-Wan's own Master, Qui-Gon Jin. 

An horrifying thought, and one that her Master refused to believe, but the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Especially with how quickly the Confederacy has been unraveling since this past year, systems leaving it left and right, begging the Republic to take them back... Maybe it's wistful thinking and she just wants to pin all this on someone, but if feels like the enemy has lost its drive, even before Dooku's death.

But that's not what matters, really. What really matters is that now victory doesn't seem that unattainable. With the droid armies inexplicably failing and not being renewed and the Open Circle liberating planet after planet, leaving them behind to be reabsorbed into the Republic, the future is looking brighter everyday that passes.

Or it  _would_ , if that bright future wasn't part of a Sith's plan. 

She wonders what Obi-Wan's motivations are. Does he really wants to serve the Republic, like he claimed to when he met up with Padmé? It seems like he does, given how he has proceeded until now. She thought he would use the clones to conquer, but he and Anakin has just went on like they've always done, except for the fact that no one is  _telling_  them what to do.

 _No, there has to be something else he wants. He's a Sith. Sith don't just want to_ serve _. They want people to serve_ them _. They want power. They want death, and destruction and... Other evil things. They are unbalanced. Unhinged. This won't end well. He'll show his true colors, and we will all regret leaving him so much free range._

And Anakin... He isn't much better, isn't he? "Unbalanced". "Unhinged." Those terms can apply to her Master, too, that much she has to admit. His behavior and the choices he has made lately... 

 _You can't judge him. Not anymore._  

Not when she's alone like this, when she doesn't have any other Jedi around to pretend for.

And Force, does she has to pretend. Pretend she's innocent. That she didn't stray from the Code and what she thought were her own morals.

Turns out morals don't hold long when people she loves are under menace.

No one knows what happened to the Battlemaster, except that he was killed by a lightsaber. 

No one is suspecting her of having any part in his death. She did join the chase, after all, and she sent Drallig's body back to the Order before coming back herself, along with the other fallen Jedi that Anakin shot down and the one she took care off, chasing him away from her Master and shooting his fighter down before he could make his move on the runaways.

Ahsoka feels sick just thinking of it. She just about threw up when the flames of their pyres licked at the shrouded corpses, and had to excuse herself from the mass funeral that was given to all the victims of Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice.

The next day, she demanded to be pulled off from the battlefield, and she was promptly assigned to Padmé's protection. The Order is no longer hiding that the Senator has its favor in the upcoming election, and how much they disapprove of Mas Amedda's tight relationship with the Banking Clans and the Trade Federation. In turn, the Acting Chancellor hasn't passed an occasion to publicly speak out against the Order's involvement, only stopping short of calling it outright treason.

They're lucky Padmé pregnancy hasn't yet been discovered. She isn't showing much yet, and the light swell or her stomach can be easily hidden by her robes. But when the public learns of it... It's going to make scandal, for sure. People are going to say the Order is only working with her because they want the child. Jedi having children is extremely rare, but everyone knows that when they do, they often are powerful.  

She feels a singular kinship for the being growing in the Senator’s belly. In a way, they’re both the products of the actions of her Master, and they’ve both been abandoned by him.

_He hasn't abandoned you, she tells herself. The mission is just more important._

That thought doesn't make her feel much better.

Padmé is resting after a long day spent in meetings after meetings, somewhere in the apartment. Not in the room she used to share with Anakin, though. She's admitted to Ahsoka that she can't be in there anymore. Not after Ventress's visit, and the scorched mark she left on the wall. 

Ahsoka is wondering if she isn't starting to regret accepting to run. They haven't touched the subject, but she knows the situation is wearing on her, and with reasons. 

_If only Anakin was here, maybe it would be easier..._

For once it seems like the Force is listening to her, because she hears her comm going off from where she has tossed it on one of the terrace's couches a bit earlier and when she accepts the call, the face of her Master appears on the holo. 

"Skyguy, hey!"

"Snips."

They smile at each other for a few seconds, but both their faces quickly return to the grim expressions that would be more suitable to a funeral than to two friends seeing each other after a long time apart.

Maybe their muscles don't know how to maintain a happy face anymore. 

"You look terrible."

Anakin scoffs.

"For a change." 

She looks at him some more. He doesn't just look like he could sleep for a week but also...

"Did something happened?" 

"I look _that_ terrible?"

She hesitates, then chooses honesty.

"You look like you've been crying, Master," she says apologetically.

He laughs, but it's a bitter and sad sound, and her heart clenches painfully in her chest. When was the last time she's heard him laugh because he really felt like it? She can't remember.

"That's because I have. Been crying," he ads, and she's surprised by _his_ honesty. That's not like him, to admit to such a weakness. "It's been a while since I haven't been alone in the Force. It's a bit overwhelming."

"Alone? But..."  _Oh_. "You've done it?"

She tries to not feel bitter about what that means, that Anakin feels alone, when she's there, when they have a bond of their own. And then she doesn't have to try anymore when she remembers what Padmé has told her about Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship. _Ew, no thank you_. _I'll take what little we have any day over their mess of a bond._

"It's done," he confirms with a sad nod. "I'm taking him to Devaron."

 

* * *

 

Life as Keeper of the Eedit Temple is boring to say the least. There is little to do but keep the place clean and the Keeper isn't very interested in sweeping floors. 

It wasn't at all what he imagined when that Jedi came to his house and told him he was Force-sensitive - which he had kind of guessed already, but hearing the confirmation still had been world shattering - and that as such, he would have to leave and give his life to the Order, as per galactic law. He'd been expecting much more action for a start. Epic adventures and duels against evil droids. 

But instead he's stuck here. 

There's no doubt that this Temple was once an important place. The size of it, the number of rooms - bedrooms, classrooms, dining halls, libraries - the large training grounds, the statues... But now it's empty, except for him and the singsong of the Force between the walls. And the vines that are starting to creep in from the jungle surrounding it and the various animals that dare to come inside. Nothing really palpitating. 

To his own surprise, he's taken to reading. A lot of scrolls and and books - actual  _books_  - have survived the Separatist attack on the Temple, even though the libraries are in a dire need of reorganization. Most of them are unreadable to him, written in languages he doesn't even know the name of, but there's still enough of basic there that he has something to somewhat fill up his days. 

But he's a teenage boy, one that's used to an active life, to an active - even if rather isolated - city. And books can only do so much for him. Especially ones that go on and on about _philosophy_. 

Anakin Skywalkers dropping by the Temple would have been a welcome distraction from his boredom if he hadn't come with a unconscious Obi-Wan Kenobi in his arms.

Granted, it is a sight to behold. The Hero With No Fear, standing on the threshold of the Temple of Eedit by a stormy night, holding one of the most dangerous man in the galaxy in his arms like some damsel in distress... That's something straight out of an epic, or one of those holodrama he used to watch with his mother back at home.

It starts looking much less awesome though when Skywalker almost drops Kenobi on his way in. But he insists on carrying him himself into the depths of the Temple, ordering the Keeper to stay put. The boy bristles under the harsh tone, but do as he's been told. He's not about to disobey that man, especially when he's holding the responsible for the Senate Massacre _and_ the Clone Vanishing against him like he's afraid he's actually going to drop him and Kenobi is going to shatter on the ground, a million pieces of murderous ex-Jedi that he will have to sweep away with the dust that's been accumulating here for weeks now, he can already see it.

The Keeper shakes away his delirious thoughts. Damn, it's late. he should have put down that book hours ago. 

"What's your name again, kid?"

He turns around with a jolt. Skywalker has crept behind him, this time empty handed. Where has he put Kenobi? The Keeper hopes it's not in his room. It has taken him time and efforts to make him as comfortable as it is now. He doesn't want any murderers in there, not even one he used to think was one of the coolest people in the Galaxy.

"I'm Caleb, sir. Caleb Dume." A pause. "And I'm fourteen... Nearly. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Alright,  _Caleb_. Do you have any food in here? Like,  _real_  food, not rations. I'm starving." 

"Uh, yes. The locals bring me baskets of fruits and stuff like that every week..."

In no time they've put together a small feast for the both of them, even though Caleb has already eaten earlier. He's not about to say no to dinner with _Anakin Skywalker._

"You  _can't_  contact the Order," the Jedi says when they're halfway through it, pointing his knife at him - not menacingly, though, thanks the stars, he just happens to have it in his hand at that moment.

Caleb hasn't even thought about that. Sure the Jedi who found him - Depa Bilaba, that was her name - gave him a comm he can use to contact Coruscant Temple in case of emergency, but does this actually qualifies as one? Skywalker, even though he looks tired and rather grim, seems like he has the situation under control, and if what he has seen on the holonet is correct, neither men are actively researched by the Republic at the moment. And it's not like he believes the rumors about Skywalker betraying the Order...

_Then why can't I call them?_

"Don't worry it's not... It's disobedience, not betrayal. They just don't believe I can succeed..."

"Succeed in what?"

"In turning my Master back to the Light. But I think... I know I can."

And Caleb believes him. Anakin Skywalker can do anything, that's what everyone says... Used to say, back at home. Now maybe they have changed their mind, though with how far away from the Core his homeplanet is, maybe they haven't even heard the rumors Caleb has. Those he can't even find on the holonet, only from the mouth of the locals that heard them from the traders that heard them from other cantina patrons on faraway worlds, that that supposedly heard them from Senate Guards. They said that Skywalker didn't leave quietly after killing Dooku. They say that the leader of the Confederacy wasn't the only one who lost his life to the blade of the Hero With No Fear that day. 

But Caleb finds it hard to believe, and even if it's true, then the true traitors are those who thought it was right to try to arrest the man who had just defeated their biggest enemy, paving the way for an imminent victory for the Republic. 

"I don't know how long it's going to take, though. A few days, a few months. Years. But I'm going to do it."

Caleb nods.

"Then I'll help you."

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan wakes up in the dark. 

He's laying on a narrow cot, on top of thin covers that don't do much to alleviate the hardness of the wood beneath. There's water dripping somewhere, the sound reverberating against the walls of what he's starting to think is a cell. No other kind of place has that sort of depressing feeling about it.

His mouth dry and his head pounding.

And he feels  _weak_. Weaker than he's ever been in his life, even when on the rare occasions he's been sick, or the less rare ones he ended up in the Healing Halls after being injured in battle, because this time the weakness isn't purely physical. It's his whole being that feels diminished, as if his mind is duller, and his bones brittler, and his eyes can see as far as they used to, and his voice will break over his first words, and not only because he's as dehydrated as Tatooine's soil.  

And he feels so lonely.

Anakin has disappeared from where he's he has always been able to find him in his mind, and he feels panic start to rise in him as he searches and searches for a sign of him, just like when he used to slip out of the Temple at night to participate to dangerous, illegal races in Coruscant's bowels - except this is worse. So much worse. Because his boy hasn't just went out to seek his weekly dose of adrenaline. He isn't going to come home at dawn, tired but smiling, and Obi-Wan won't be able hug him tight after a good sermon and a promise for adequate punishment. 

Anakin is just gone.

And he took the Force with him.

He cannot tap into it, or even just feel it. But it is still flowing through his veins, beating at that very core if his cells, he knows it. Nothing can take the Force entirely away from a living thing. Only death. And he sure as hell isn't dead. Dead people don't get headaches. Or itching necks. 

_Oh..._

He remembers now! He remembers coming back to the  _Victus_  after strangling Tarkin - one of the best moments of his life, he's never liked the man - only to find out Anakin was gone. he remembers coming down to Commenor, and finding  _his_  apprentice kissing that Outer Rim trash of a smuggler. He remembers killing the man and...

And he remembers Anakin's lips on his, and his body under him, and the sting of a needle.

He had won! Finally Anakin was his!

He had initiated that kiss, just as Obi-Wan had wanted. Just as he had hoped and worked for... But in the end it had been only a part of Anakin's plans, hadn't it? 

"You cunning bastard," he says aloud to the darkness, torn between pride and fury. 

Anakin totally blindsided him. 

First by making him jealous, and then by seducing him so that the only thing he had in mind was the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin, using his own attraction and lust to cover his true intentions in the Force.

He had won, but he hadn't had the time to savor his victory, nor the taste of his apprentice's lips - though he'll probably remember the flavor of the cocktail he had been drinking until his last day. 

He closes his eyes - nothing interesting to see here anyway - and sigh heavily. Now he can only wait for Anakin to come back, start with whatever undoubtedly stupid plan he has. He'll fail, and Obi-Wan will get out. And take what's his.

 

* * *

 

Now that his headache is gone, Anakin's mind feels clearer than it has in months.

It only makes Obi-Wan's absence in the Force more obvious, a gaping hole in Anakin's perception of the world. He had thought himself ready for this, back when Ahsoka and him had devised this plan, had thought that the months following Obi-Wan's fall had prepared him for this enough that it wouldn't be too hard to live without their bond, but now he realizes that even then it hadn't be that bad. Obi-Wan had been hiding then, now he's just _gone_. 

In this Temple that isn't his home, with his Master in the basement but absent from the Force. He needs something to anchor him, or he will lose his mind. 

Anakin finds Jedi garbs in a wooden chest in one of the Temple's storage rooms. They’re dusty and faded but he won’t be difficult when he manages to find one full outfit in his size, in a grayish linen. He puts on too large brown robes, and he feels like a Jedi again.

He has to keeps the boots he found in Obi-Wan’s wardrobe though. It's annoying, but he isn't too keen on wearing the one pair of sandals he's found here. Sandals suck.  

He goes down the tower's stairs, and when he's reached the ground floor, goes trough a small door hidden away in a cellar. Then there's another flight of stairs, and there a long hallway, lined with cells.

Obi-Wan is sitting on his cell's cot, nursing his head into his hands, but he looks up as soon as he hears Anakin's footsteps on the stone floor of the dungeon and jumps to his feet, maybe not moving as quickly as he would normally, but still quick enough for someone who's been unconscious for nearly forty-eight hours and has just woken up. 

“Anakin!” 

His voice is pleading as he reaches through durasteel bars, and without thinking Anakin walks up to him, entwining his fingers with Obi-Wan’s in a pale imitation of their bond. 

Hope grabs at him with vicious claws when he looks into Obi-Wan's watery and red rimmed but - thanks the Force -  _blue_  eyes, before dropping him for what feels like a fall into some pit of despair - that feels so familiar he could call it home now - when his Master's face switches from distress to anger and contempt and he yanks Anakin's arm so it's all the way inside the cell, twisting it painfully so his face his smashed against the bars.

"That was some big fucking mistake, even for you, Anakin," he growls in his ear.

_Don't be stupid. No one said it was going to be easy._

Actually, everyone said it was impossible. And Anakin swore he would prove them wrong.

None of this means he doesn't want to cry right now. Or maybe let Obi-Wan suffocate him with the arm he has swung around both the bars and his throat.

For his defense, he hasn't slept much last night. Nor any of the nights before.

"This isn't a mistake! I will save you and this will work! Why can't you just..." 

"I'm not talking about your ridiculous quest!" 

"What..." 

"You have no idea what you released, don't you?!"

His voice is a deep rumble in Anakin's back, and he has trouble concentrating one what those words _mean_  with the way he's growing light headed with the lack of air, but he still manages to croack out a pathetic "what?", making Obi-Wan chuckle against his ear. 

"Sith ghosts." 

Finally he thinks of using the Force,  _pushing_  at Obi-Wan so that he has no choice but to release him. He doesn't let go without a struggle though, and Anakin is coughing violently when for over half a minute after he does. 

"Sith ghosts?" he asks finally, looking up at Obi-Wan from where he's bending down, hands on his knees and taking deep breaths. 

"Now that it's silent up there," he taps at his forehead, looking too calm for someone who's admitting he's been hearing voices. "I know it was them. Didn't you hear them cheer on us the other night?"

"Cheer on... You mean when I kissed you?"

Anakin can feel heat spread to his face even as he says those words.

"When you kissed me," Obi-Wan confirms, walking back up to the bars until there are only inches - and durasteel rods - between them. He smiles at Anakin, almost tenderly. "That's one things them and I agree about. You're one hell of a kisser, my dear apprentice."

Anakin just stares at him, dumbfounded. 

"What..." _What in the stars?_  "Why would _Sith ghosts_ cheer on us?"

"Because they want you to join me," Obi-Wan replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "They got a taste of your power when we bound the clones..."

"When _you_ bound the clones! I didn't do anything!"

"You did," Obi-Wan says with a smirk. "You lend me your strength, just like they lend me their. They've been trapped by Korriban for eons, their spirits unresting, unable to dissolve into the Force. They're a formidable source of energy, but they also - quite paradoxically - still crave power, just like they did when they were alive. They want you on our side."

"And I released them?" Anakin asks in a weak voice.

"You gave them access to the biggest army in the Galaxy." For all he claimed that this was a mistake, Obi-Wan doesn't seem that bothered about that fact. "I was the only thing standing between them and the clones." 

 _Well it at least explains the strange behavior of the troopers on Commenor, Anakin_ thinks _._

Then:

_There's nothing I can do about this, can I?_

He can't even warn the Council. He'll have to trust that they're making progress in dissolving the blood bond on their own.

"I have to give you another dose," he says, his voice blank, taking out a syringe from the pouch attached to his belt. 

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow.

"Making me sleep won't solve anything."

"That one won't. Make you sleep. It'll just keep you disconnected from the Force."

For the first time in a really long time, Anakin can see fear on his Master's face. He's looking at him with wide eyes, and swallows loudly before saying in a shaky voice:

"Don't do that."

"I have to."

"You don't know what it's like. No feeling it. Not feeling  _you_."

"I have to," Anakin repeats.

He knows how it feels like. It's agony. but he has to. 

He raises his hand, and Obi-Wan's feet drag on the ground, bringing him close enough to the bars that Anakin can inject the spice through them. 

"No! No-no-no-no... Anakin! Don't do that! I can't..."

"I'm sorry."

He releases him, and Obi-Wan falls back to the ground. Holding himself up on an elbow, his other hand clutching his neck where the needle went in. He's breathing fast and his pupils wide enough that his eyes look black. 

"I..." He breaks into an anguished laughter "So that's your plan? Drug me so I can't think straight and you can... What? Brainwash me?" His words are slurred, and his gaze is heavy lidded when he looks up at Anakin. "You know it's not gonna work. You're gonna stand there and you're gonna  _try_. But you won't succeed Because there is nothing to fix."

"We'll see," Anakin replies, stepping away from the cell. "I'll be back tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

 

"Are they looking for us?"

"They are," Ahsoka says over the holo. "I don't think they'll be looking in a Temple though."

That's why they chose Devaron. That and the cells Anakin found during the night they spent there, months ago. He had explored the place a little before going to bed, hoping the steep stairs of the tower would tire him enough for him to sleep that night. It had worked - though it hadn't kept the dreams at bay - and he had also given him the last element needed for his plan: a place to hide, and a place to keep his Sith of a Master. 

 

* * *

 

Anakin talks.

He talks about the Code, about what it means to be a Jedi. He talks about their past missions, about how they saved people and ended wars before they could even start. He talks about how Obi-Wan could do that with a few chosen words, when he had only his blade to negotiate, and how he used to admire him for that.  _Used to_. He doesn’t anymore, apparently. Because his goals have changed. He doesn’t use his voice to bring peace anymore. He uses it for himself. To corrupt and hurt. To spread fear and devotion. To spread his influence on the weak minded and the greedy.

"This isn't what you want," he says. "It can't be. You've always said it wasn't something one should aspire for. That power didn't mean anything..."

"Well I was a pretentious prick back then." Anakin looks at him with wide eyes, and Obi-Wan grins at him, amused by his surprised. "I thought I was so above it all, didn't I? But the truth is, Anakin, power is just what we call our capacity to influence the world around us. There's no morals about it. It isn't good or evil. It just  _is_."  

"And you want to influence the world..."

"I don't particularly  _want_  it. I'm just very good at it."

"So you don't care that you're hurting people? That you've aligned yourself with those we swore to fight?"

"I don't care about  _people_ , I care about..."

"You used to," Anakin cuts in.

"And you," he says, sitting up and pointing an accusing finger at Anakin. "You don't care either. Or you didn't  _used_  to."

"That's no true!"

"It is. It took me years to make you somewhat accept the Code. Accept to pretend you lived by it. And even then... You broke it. You got married." 

He doesn't want his voice to waver on the words, doesn't want the pain to be so clearly audible in his voice. But it does, and he hates Padmé Amidala a bit more at that moment.

Not that Anakin notices. He's too busy looking offended.

"It has nothing to do with what you're doing!"

"It does."

"I never hurt anyone by being with Padmé!"

Obi-Wan starts laughing. It doesn't surprise him Anakin doesn't know. How he  _did_  hurt someone by giving her what Obi-Wan used to thought no one could have. How it in turn caused the very situation he's reverse now.  

"I don't see what's so funny," Anakin says, pouting in that way that makes Obi-Wan want to tear the bars of his cell apart and kiss him senseless - which is annoying. He's angry at him right now. He shouldn't want to kiss him.  

"Oh it is. Because you know who you're hurting, right now? Your beloved wife. Tell me, how is she taking to you leaving her to run away with me?"

"She's doing just fine," Anakin replies, looking like he believes it. Interesting.

"Mhm. She must not love you as much as I thought then. Being so long apart from her husband... But then again she was ready to give you to me in exchange for the fleet."

Anakin shrugs, to Obi-Wan's annoyance. Doesn't he care about this?

"She knows I can handle you," he replies instead of calling Obi-wan's words a lie - but maybe he just knows they aren't. He probably has read the transcripts of the meeting months ago. Has had the time to rationalize his wife's callous words.

"Can you?"

"You're the one behind bars."

"Not for long."

 

* * *

 

"What's up with the clothes," Anakin asks, prompting Obi-Wan to open one eye. He's been ignoring him since he's arrived, and Anakin has stayed silent in return, for nearly half an hour.

He's laying on the narrow cot that's fixed to one wall of his cell, hands resting over his stomach, ankles crossed, and he chuckles as he sees how Anakin somehow mirrors his position, leaning on the wall opposite his cell finger arms and legs crossed, his chin held up defiantly.

"What clothes?"

"I'm talking about your new-found passion for black. And... those."

He points at his own boots, the only part he has kept from the ensemble he was wearing that night on Commenor. The rest is a mix of old and frayed Jedi tunics, that he's probably found in the Temple itself. The pants have been torn at the knees and repaired with a less than expert hand. They make for a stark contrast with the shiny leather of the boots, making Anakin look like some street rat that's stole them from a passed-out patron in some seedy brothel.

Obi-Wan snickers at the mental image. 

"I think I told you about it. I'm just making a statement," he responds to both questions, though he doubts Anakin understands that. He doesn't tell him that he has grown sick of  _beige,_ but maybe he should, just to see him laugh. It's been a while since he has since Anakin laugh genuinely. He sounds either bitter or incredulous when he does nowadays.

"Yes, yes," Anakin says, clearly annoyed. "You want everyone to know that you switched sides, but why did you had clothes  _for me_ , in  _your_  closet."

"Well you needed them, right? Don't tell me you want to continue wearing the same outfit over and over. There can't be one thread that hasn't been singed or repaired on those tunics. And don't start me about _that_ ," he adds, pointing at Anakin's current outfit.

"So you wanted me to  _beg_  you for clothes?" Anakin asks, smoothing the fabric of his shirt self-consciously. "What the fuck, Obi-Wan?"

"Waltzing in and taking them like you did works too." He chuckles. "You have to go for what you want in life, Anakin." 

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin checks in with Ahsoka everyday. They don't say much to each other, his Padawan -  _former_  Padawan now, and he can't believe they knighted her without him being present for it - mostly giving him updates that sound like military reports and him telling her that nothing has changed...  _yet_. (It drives him mad. Why aren't those so called Sith ghosts doing anything with that powerful army of theirs?) But they've decided they would be doing this, because even though Obi-Wan hasn't access to the Force and is behind bars, they know him to well to believe that will hold him forever. So Anakin calls her, so she knows nothing has gone sideways.

"Master... What happened on Emberlene?" She finally asks one day. 

"You've heard about that?"

"Everyone heard about that. An entire fleet decimated...  _Tarkin_  is dead. What happened?"

"He tried to kill me. After I refused to give him Obi-Wan." 

"But Amedda..."

"Tarkin didn't agree with Amedda. And Obi-Wan didn't agree with Tarkin."

 

* * *

 

"You're right," Obi-Wan says on the tenth day.

"What?" Anakin looks up. He's sitting on the bench he has dragged downstairs earlier. He's been looking down at his hands, searching for the right words, the one that will make Obi-Wan  _see_. How much better it would be for him to turn his back to the Dark Side. How much Anakin needs him to come back to the Light.

Has he found those words already, without noticing it?

"Of course you're right, about all this." He gesture vaguely. He's sitting on the floor today, back to the far wall of the cell, legs streched before him. "About me. I've lost my way... I lost myself... And I fear I'm losing you to..."

"You aren't going to lose me, Obi-Wan!" he says with fervor. "I'm here, and I will do  _anything_..."

"You should kill me."

"No!"

"Didn't you just say you'd do anything?" Obi-Wan asks, springing to his feet and walking up to the bars.

"No way!" Anakin exclaims, getting up himself, though he doesn't move from where he was sitting, on the other side of the hallway. "I told you, I'm going to save you!" 

Obi-Wan bursts out in laughter. It's a harsh, mocking sound, and Anakin could swear his eyes flash yellow for a second... But it can't be... 

"Look at you, Chosen One of the Light... So hung up on saving a Sith..." His voice has a bite Anakin has never in it before, and it makes him want to curl up in a corner, or to turn around and just leave. "But it's not out of bravery," he goes on, "or selflessness. You just don't want to admit that you'd let the enemy fuck you senseless if only he'd kiss you first..."

Anakin turns around and leave.

He only goes back in the evening, bringing down a tray of food.

But what awaits him is even worse than what he left earlier. 

Obi-Wan is pressing against the bars, a manic grin etched into his face.

“Come on baby, you’ve got to let me out of here…”

Anakin freezes.

"You know I can't do that. I _won't_ do that."

“Or at least join me for a little while… Do you know how much I want you? I should have told you long ago…”

“Stop it.”

“Why? It’s the truth.  _I want you._  And I know you want me back… I felt it. You were so hard for me…”

“It’s not you. It’s the Dark Side…”

“Oh it’s all me, believe it. I'm cut off from the Force, remember? How can it possibly influence me?” But even as he says those words, Anakin can feel it. A sneaking sensation, a whisper of  _something_  that was once a part of him, a tendril of thought that speaks with an accent that has his skin 

"It's all me," Obi-Wan repeats, and Anakin believes him, and then he forgets all about the whisper as his Master goes on, his voice - his real voice - taking up all his attention, and lighting up his imagination, even though he doesn't want it to affect him so much, he can't help but listen. "I’ve dreamed to fuck that perfect ass of yours for years..."

Anakin has to turn around at that, to stare a hole in the wall instead of into his smug Master, the words " _lies, lies, lies_ ," looping around in his head, only interrupted by an unhelpful " _perfect ass? really???_ ".

"I can tell you the day I realized it," Obi-Wan goes on, sounding far too pleased with himself. "We had a spar, and it seemed that the whole Temple turned up to watch. And I wondered why that was. So I made myself look at you… Look at  _us_  from an objective point of view. And I  _understood._ I _saw._ You weren't a boy anymore. You were a man. Strong and so. Fucking. Beautiful. It took my breath away. And together... Oh, Anakin... We’d be so good together baby, you know it."

"No. You're just saying that because..."

"Because that's what i think. And believe me I've thought about it  _a_   _lot_. About how we complete each other. About all the way we  _could_  complete each other. All the  _places_..." He laughs, and then drops all pretense of subtlety. "Did you ever thought about it? Fucking in the Council Chambers? I bet you did.“

"No.”

“Liar.”

The echoes of Obi-Wan's laugh follow him up the stairs. 

When he's back on the ground floor, sitting in the main hall, he realizes he has taken the tray back up with him. He sighs tiredly, rubbing at his forehead. He really doesn't want to go back down here. 

He doesn't trust himself to not do something stupid.

"Can you bring this down?" Anakin asks Caleb a few minutes later when the boy passes by the hall. When Caleb takes the tray though - and the syringe that goes with it - he stops him with a hand on his forearm. He won't send him to the grinder without at least a warning. "Just... Don't listen to what he says."

 

* * *

 

"Oh, hello there." The kid stops a few feet away from his cell, eyeing him suspiciously. "Who are you, young one?"

"I'm the Keeper."

He immediately looks like he regrets answering that question.

"Oh? What happened to the old one?"

The kid shakes his head.

"You don't know?"

"I do. He got killed by the Separatists. But..."

"But you're not supposed to talk to me. I understand. But we're just making small talk aren't we? No harm in that." 

"Master Skywalker said to not  _listen_  to you."

"Well I'm not telling you anything, am I? Just  _asking_."

"Well stop _asking_. I'm not going to tell you stuff." 

Then he steps forward and slides a plate up against the bars.

"Even if I have a very simple question, and the answer isn't going to hurt anyone?"

The Keeper frowns at him.

"Master Skywalker said I had to inject you with this," he says, ignoring the question.

He holds up one of Anakin's syringes. 

"And what makes you think I'll let you do that?"

"I have the Force."

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. 

"And I doubt very much you can use it well enough to force me to do anything... But, tell you what. I'll let you do it, if you answer my question."

"Fine," the boy replies, not looking happy about it, and Obi-Wan wonders if it's more about the fact that he's disobeying Anakin's orders or because he knows he isn't good enough to coerce him with the Force.

"What kind of ship did he came in?"

The young Keeper raises an incredulous eyebrow at the simplicity of his question then, probably deciding there's really no harm in answering him, starts describing the ship Obi-Wan used to come down to Commenor. A smile slowly makes it way onto the Sith's lips.

The Force may not be with him physically, but it still looks after him.

"There is a chest on board. Inside there's an artifact." He traces a triangle in the air. "Shaped like a pyramid."

"You want me to bring it to you?" the boy asks dubiously. "I'm not going to do that."

"No, I just want you to take a look at it. Just for yourself. They don't want to teach you, do they? The Jedi?"

"They say I'm too old, but..."

"That artifact is called a holocron. It holds teachings from the Jedi of old. I think you can learn a thing or two from it. _If you want_."

 _There_. Just in time, a tiny spark of power. Not enough for him to blast open the cell's door, are even to feel Anakin's presence, but just enough to lace his words with persuasion. 

He had thought it trick of his mind earlier with Anakin, but it has happened again. Is his system getting used to the drug? Was the last injection of lesser quality than the others? 

_It doesn't matter. After this I won't need the Force myself, I just need the kid to use it for me._

To use the holocron.

It's not exactly  _open_ , but it isn't locked either. The boy won't have to use the Dark Side to access it. Just to be a be Force-sensitive, and the holocron - and the power it contains - will do the rest.

He helds up his arms through the bars.

"Now you can inject me."

 

* * *

 

The kid doesn't come back, but that's all right. The seed has been planted and all Obi-Wan has to do is wait for it to grow. Boys that age are curious, and he won't stay away from the chest and the secrets it contains for long.

He isn't able to use the Force either after that on time. Must have been a bad batch of spice. It's all right too. It feels like dying inside every second that pass without touching it, but he's strong, and he can wait.

Anakin doesn't talk to him for three days after that last conversation, only coming down to give him food and inject him his daily spice dose. It's frustrating, but it's also the proof that Obi-Wan got to him, and he feels so smug about it that not even the sting of the needle in his neck can make his grin falter. 

Yes, that silence is frustrating, but Obi-Wan almost regrets it when Anakin starts talking to him again, because he's not really  _talking_. He's reading. From a dusty book that bears the mark of the Order. It's pages are made of actual paper, not filmsi sheets, a relic of eras long past. But the words are the very same he's been hearing all his life. Endless talk of responsibilities and duty and respect and restraint... It's almost comical, hearing Anakin of all people reading this, in that stern and uptight tone of voice that makes him sound like he has something prickly stuck into his throat. 

Almost. Not enough to make the Obi-Wan's need to scream himself hoarse go away. 

_Lies! Propaganda! You don't even believe in them yourself! Don't you see there is nothing good there?! They want to smother us! Control us! Destroy our will and spirit until we're nothing more than spineless puppets,_

But he shuts his mouth. He knows Anakin knows. Deep down. He even used to be very vocal about it. About how there were other ways. About how it the Code didn't really mattered, if you were intent on doing good. About how it could even  _prevent_  them from doing good. 

Obi-Wan doesn't care for good anymore, and he doesn't believe Anakin cares about it much those days - or he wouldn't have joined him, would have stuck with his wife and his padawan and the Order, the people that  _said_  they were working for the greater good - only clinging to it because it's easier than accept the truth, easier than admit that there's no basis in this battle he's fighting against his Master. That giving in to the Dark Side would not  _change_  him, but only reveal what's been there all along.

And what's there is selfish and violent and beautiful, Obi-Wan knows it. But he can't tell him point blank. Well, he _could_ , but it wouldn't be of much use. He won't hear it. Won't be interested in it. He'll scoff and go on with those words borrowed to long dead Jedi, refusing to look. Obi-Wan will have to make him see. 

Give him a taste of power and freedom. Something a slave would break his chains for.

 

* * *

 

“… but of course you don’t care do you?”

Obi-Wan had drowned the sound of Anakin's voice by concentrating on his mouth, thinking about the sounds he could wrench from it and the way it would look around his cock. It's been working pretty well, and Obi-Wan has no idea what his apprentice is rambling about, though it's probably nothing new.

But those words, those words he is starting to hate, that has gone through the filter and he can't stay silent anymore.

He sits up on his bunk, startling Anakin into silence. He doesn't need their bond to know that the tight smile that appears on the lips he had day-dreamed about a few seconds later are from the smugness Anakin must doubtlessly feel at getting a reaction from him after two days of unilateral conversation.

“Oh, you know what Anakin, that’s enough! You know who didn’t want me to care? That’s right,  _the Order_. And I ditched them. So tell me again I don’t care, I dare you.”

"If you cared then you would have asked me about Ahsoka."

"You would have told me if something had happened to her. You would have came here and I would have seen it on your face, and I would have asked 'did something happen?' But nothing happened to her. She is fine. Or you wouldn't be there."

"That's not what i'm talking about! She took risks for us! She lied for us! Because of what you did, she had to turn against the Order..."

"But they don't know about it do they?" 

"No, they don't," Anakin admits through clenched teeth. 

"Then  _she is fine_. Or as fine a teenager can be in the clutch of the Order and in the midst of a war. But she's strong. She'll survive it."

"You don't know that." 

" _We_  trained her, Anakin. She'll survive this. And she'll come out of it even stronger. You'll see."

Anakin starts pacing, running both hands trough his hair frantically.

"But I don't want her to have to go through this in the first place, Obi-Wan!"

"Too bad, because she made her choice! I didn't tell her to shoot down those fighters! She did it all by herself!"

"And don't tell me, you would have never asked her to, because  _you care_   _so much_..."

"Well I left her alone, didn't I? Not like  _Padmé_ , who made her participate in an assassination attempt against me..."

"How do you..."

"Or  _you_ , who made her an accomplice in hiding a Sith from the Order's justice!"

Anakin's silence says it all.

"She helped you pull this off, didn't she?  _You_  made her turn against the Order.  _You_  put her in this position. And all because you can't give up, and you can't admit that you're going to fail..."

"Fine," Anakin cuts him off. "You care about Ahsoka. Good for you. Now what about Quinlan?”

He's stopped pacing, and the way he looks at Obi-Wan is accusatory, though what the fuck can he be accusing him of this time, Obi-Wan has no clue.

“I don’t see what Quin has to do with any of this.”

“You don’t care he’s dead because of shit like this?”

"Like what?"

"Like..." Anakin makes a frustrated gesture. "The Dark Side and wanting power and  

"No, this isn't why. He's dead because  _Dooku_  felt threatened by him."

"He did it because it would hurt Ventress!" Anakin shouts. "That way she had no other choice but the Dark Side!" 

"What is this about, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asks slowly. "How does it have anything to do with our situation?"

He doesn't want to  _hurt_  Anakin. And there  _is_  no other choice than the Dark Side, pain or no pain.

"It's about how you're using my feelings to manipulate me!"

"What feelings?"

That he knows about, though he still fail to see how went from him caring about Quin's death to talking about  _Anakin's_  feelings. What Ventress and him had is nothing comparable to Anakin and him. 

"You know damn well what I'm talking about!"

And with that, Anakin storms out, leaving Obi-Wan with a string of unsaid words on his tongue.

He wants to tell him that he do know. And that there is nothing wrong about it. And that he's not hiding from it, because that's what Sith do. Where the Jedi prefers to deny their existence, Sith  _use_  feelings and emotions. And maybe they do it more ruthlessly, but it's also what anyone who isn't bound by that damned Code does. 

And Obi-Wan doesn't feel guilty about it. Yes, he would have preferred if things didn't had to come to this. But it's not on him. It's on Amidala. She stole Anakin from him. She made it so he had no other choices than to push Anakin into this situation, where he has to chose between them. And it's on Palpatine, who manipulated the entire Galaxy and drove them apart.

There is nothing wrong in using Anakin's feelings to bring them closer. That's what seduction is about, isn't it? Kindling the sparks of attraction until they become a raging bonfire. That's what Amidala did. Swooping back in their lives, probably after catching sight of Anakin in the Senate or some other place, as their were protecting Senators or the boy was meeting with the Chancellor, deciding that he would make the perfect arm piece - young, attractive and powerful - and seizing the opportunity to ask for their protection when after her attack, capitalizing on the awe Anakin had felt for her as a child... Even using  _him_  - he can see that now - when she had pushed Anakin to ignore the Council's orders to come and "rescue" him on Geonosis, gaining the favor and loyalty of his padawan by aligning her interests with his. 

And he had never seen anything wrong with that, hadn't he? He'd fallen right for it, and had married her.

What's so different about what Obi-Wan's been doing? Not much, really.  

There is nothing wrong with what he's doing. 

 

* * *

 

"Was it there?" Obi-Wan asks as soon as he hears the light footsteps on the stone of the hallway. This isn't Anakin. He would know if it was. No, this is the kid. 

The young Keeper doesn't say anything until he's standing a foot or so away from the bars of Obi-Wan's cell. He's gnawing at his lips anxiously, his finger fiddling with...  _My old lightsaber?_

"Why do you have that?" 

"I found the... The holocron. And that." The boy helds up the lightsaber in the thing ray of light coming from the narrow window carved into the far wall of the cell. "I was wondering if I could use it?"

"Don't you have one of your own, little Keeper?"

Obi-Wan knows he doesn't. This kid has never set foot on Coruscant, and probably never even heard of Ilum. 

"I asked Master Bilaba. She said I couldn't."

"Then I guess you can use this one. To train. Wouldn't want the same thing that happened to the previous Keeper to happen to you, uh?"

The kid looks up from the lightsaber in his hands, looking surprised.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," he says earnestly. "And... for the holocron, too. It's been talking to me. I think. Not with actual words but... I think I understand things better, now."

"Good."

 

* * *

 

“Has the election passed?” Obi-Wan asks when Anakin comes in the next day.

He’s leaning on the bars, both hands gripping them above his head, and the way he looks at Anakin... Oh, whatever it is, he had a bad feeling about it.

But he ignores it, choosing to respond nonchalantly to his questions. 

“Yes.”

Not that he actually cares that much about the election. He took them off the board, leaving it to better, more suitable players. Who's leading the Republic isn't his problem right now. Obi-Wan is.

“So what?”

“So she won.”

He doesn’t expect Obi-Wan to smile, and so he’s taken aback when he does. It’s the smile he gets when a trap he has laid has caught its target and he can comes out of the shadows to let his lightsaber do the rest.

“Good. Then the end of the Republic will be on her.”

Anakin sigh.

"The Republic isn't going to fall. The war will be over soon, and there will be no one left to threaten it."

"Do you really think that? Didn't you hear what I told you about the Clones and who controls them now?"

"The Order is working on something to break the blood bond..."

"Oh  _please_. As if they understand anything about the Dark Side!"

"They know how to fight it."

"Do they? Then why didn't they stop me? Why didn't they stop Sidious? Why is that well of darkness still present under their own Temple, the focal point of all that is Light? They can't do anything..."

"What well?"

"The one you'd know about if you had bothered going to the Archives every now and then."

Anakin has to call Ahsoka. 

 

* * *

 

That dream again. 

Fire in Eedit's halls.

Anakin twists and turns on his bed, linen sheets clinging to his sweaty skin. There's fire everywhere, he can feel it. Can smell it. Can hear it. And he can't run away. Can't use the Force to part the flames and make a path to escape. He's trapped between the ancient walls, and this Temple will be his tomb.

He wakes up with a strangled cry, gulping for air. 

But the fire is real, this time. He can feel its heat on his skin, can feel the smoke filling up his lungs, and it takes him almost too long to breath something substantial. He looks around then, toward the open door of his room, and through the tears feeling his eyes he can see the orange glow of the flames in the hallway.

_What the fuck's happening?_

How did his dream become true? Was it an accident? Another Separatist attack?

Or is it the Sith in the basement? 

_Obi-Wan!_

He has to get to him! It doesn't matter if he's responsible for this or not, Anakin has to know if he's alright, has to get him out. 

The idea hasn't fully formed in his head that he's already running through the hallways, his naked feet hitting the unusually warm stone, his ragged breath making him inhale more soot than oxygen. 

He takes a turn left, meaning to cut across this floor of the tower to reach the stairs, and has to grab the doorjambs with both hands to stop himself before he dives right into the flames that have taken up the room.

It's one of the Temple's libraries. Or what's left of it. Now it's just a furnace, ancient books and scroll burning high and bright, words written centuries, millennia ago turning into a smoke that's pooling on the ceiling, making Anakin cough violently on its way up there. There's no point trying to pass through there. He has to find another way.

It takes him ten whole minutes to reach the ground floor, when it should have taken two at most in normal circumstances. He isn't really in danger at any point during his descent, because the Force is with him and unlike in his dream, he has control of it, but he has to stop to clear the way far too many times considering the tower is mainly made of non-flammable materials. 

He understands why this is when he finds an empty lamp on the floor. It's an oil lamp, because fuck electricity, right? It's seems that everywhere across the Galaxy, Jedi are allergic to efficient lighting systems.  _And now one of their Temple is going into flames. Serves them right._  

He finds Caleb in the cellar that leads down to the row of cells, curled up in a corner, clutching something that looks suspiciously like Obi-Wan's old lightsaber against his chest.

The boy's face is a mess.

Burns stretch all over his cheeks and forehead, the skin blackened and blistering. It's going to leave a mean scar, even with bacta... Not that they even have any here. 

"Caleb?" 

Anakin puts a hand on the boy's shoulder, and he jumps in surprise and fright, before relaxing marginaly and dropping the lightsaber - this is definitively Obi-Wan's. How did it end up here? - and reaching out, grasping the fabric of his pants with trembling hands.

"I can't see!"

"What happened?" 

"Kenobi... He set the Temple on fire!"

In spite of the fire that rages around and over them, Anakin feels cold all of a sudden. Obi-Wan has freed himself. Just like he told him. And he set the place on fire, _with Anakin in it_. 

"Do you know where he went?"

He could be anywhere. Gone already or hiding in the moving shadows of the hall. Anakin wouldn't know. He still can't feel him, and he has never wished he could more than right now.

"He threw oil at me!" the boy cries out, clutching Anakin's arm hard. "He burned me so I couldn't see him or stop him!"

Anakin thinks he's going to throw up. 

"Come on," he forces himself to say. "Let's get you out of here."

He hauls the boy to his feet, dragging him along into the hallway, toward the main door.

"I wouldn't have stopped him," Caleb admits before his voice cracks into a heartbreaking sob. "The voice said I should help him! But there's only darkness now! Just like the voice said..."

"What voi..."

A sting in his neck makes him lose his train of thought, and he stumbles back into someone's chest. Arms close around him and darkness takes him over too.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK BITCHES  
> (oh god it's been 6 months hasn't it? if i make you wait that long for the next one feel free to come shame me on tumblr)
> 
> Also FYI that's the chapter I was thinking about when I first tagged this as graphic depiction of violence.

Anakin's last call had left Ahsoka in an uncomfortable state of agitation and worry. She had been at the Temple at the time, on one of her rare leaves from Padmé's service. Luckily for them, because that way she'd been able to check the Archives while she was speaking with her Master. And the results had been daunting.

A well of dark power under the Temple. 

“… Like the vergence in Eedit. Only...  _Evil_.”

Hidden. Covered. Guarded. But still there, still as powerful as it was before the Jedi took over the place, as insidious.

“There’s a vergence here?” Anakin had looked around him, as if he could see the Force leaking from the walls.

"Well, yeah. Can’t you feel it?”

It wasn't near as strong as the Coruscant one, but it was light, and free. Powerful enough that someone as imbued by the Force as Anakin is should have felt it. Recognized it.

 _She_  had.

“No? Right now I just feel vaguely nauseous. Nothing mystical though. Must just be some not so fresh fruit or something...”

"Really?" Ahsoka frowned. For her it had been... Well, like standing next to Anakin. A bit overwhelming, but comfortable and familiar. "Maybe you can't feel it because you overpower it," she theorized. 

"Maybe... But what about the one under the Temple? That  _well_..."

"Its influence is diminished by all the Jedi walking over it. That's actually why the Temple was built there. To neutralize it."

As she explains this, she can't help but wonder if they're still enough of them there to for it to continue working. 

She can see Anakin is making the same reasoning as his eyes widen and his mouth falls open in a little 'o'. 

"Do you think... Do you think it's taking over? With all the losses of the war..." And he might even be one step ahead of her because he asks then: "Do you think it has something to do with Obi-Wan's fall?"

He seems almost hopeful. Which she gets. Obi-Wan being corrupted by an external force would be better than this somehow being their Master's own fault.  

She considers it. It could be. Obi-Wan has always been curious, avid of knowledge. What if he got too close to the well? What if he tried to study it and got caught by it's malignant power? What if... She sighs.

"I... I don't know. It could be. But would it change anything?"

It's too late now. Knowing how and why Obi-Wan has fallen won't bring him back. But she can see Anakin isn't of the same opinion in the way he leans forward, excitation and hope now clearly painted over his features.

"Maybe," he exhales. "If..." He shakes his head, suddenly looking more reserved, as if afraid to speak of what he has in mind. "Did you find anything about Sith ghosts?"

 

* * *

 

Ahsoka tries to contact Anakin again in the morning, but his comm is unresponsive. She'll try again later. He's probably busy trying to get Obi-Wan to see the light, or even sleeping. She usually contacts him in the evening. It's too early to worry, and she has to get to work now.

_You and your bad feelings._

It's just stress, she tells herself.

_There's nothing to worry about._

"How is Anakin?" Padmé asks as Ahsoka walks into her office.

She doesn't seem particularly interested by her answer though, too busy reading reports and speeches and whatever the Chancellor actually has to do in the wake of their investiture. It's just something she has asked every morning since Ahsoka told her of their daily checks in. She's part of her daytime security, and only calls Anakin once she's done with her day at he Chancellor's side.

Padmé hasn't taken the time to breath since the election, which Ahsoka knows is necessary - they're still at war, even if she has taken a step away from the conflict, a luxury not everyone has - but she still wishes she would, both for her sake and for Anakin's. Even though she still feels conflicted about her former Master's self imposed mission and his motivations, it doesn't mean he doesn't need any help he can get. And Padmé's support would be the greatest of all, if only she'd take a few minutes a day to contact her husband...

"He's fine..." She says out loud. Then, under her breath: "I hope."

 

* * *

 

 "I'll be just outside."

Padmé looks up from her datapad to watch Ahsoka leave the room. The young Jedi doesn't look very happy -  _though who can say they are nowadays?_  she reminds herself bitterly - and Padmé wonders once again about the reasons of her self imposed exile from the front lines.

Does she fear running into Anakin and Obi-Wan? Does she worry she won't be able to fight them? Does she think she'll join them if she has the opportunity?

_I wouldn't even really blame her..._

What  _she_  wouldn't give to have her husband back! 

Both physically and emotionally. 

He's been slipping away from her, she knows it. And some days she doubt that they will ever be able to repair the breach that's been slowly but surely forming between them. And some even worse days, she wonders if that breach wouldn't have appeared even without Obi-Wan falling to the Dark Side and Anakin self imposed mission to get him back. 

It was just a matter of time before their secret marriage was uncovered anyway. She knows they weren't as discreet as they liked to think. And then Anakin would have been forced to distance himself by the Council. And her name would have been dragged through the mud just as well as it is now, forcing her to make a choice between her career, and through it her ideals, and her love.

It's a wonder she's won the election as it is. She chalks it up mostly to Mas Amedda obvious corruption, and to the fact that he used to be Vice Chancellor under Palpatine, under who's reign the Republic descended into chaos and divided even further.

The people had wanted change.

It had been too long since the Senate had known a real election. Since Finis Valarum had been elected, twenty-one years ago. Palpatine had been voted in immediately after the vote of non-confidence had put his predecessor out of a job, and had stayed Chancellor, then Supreme Chancellor (and how hard Padmé had hated this title) for about fourteen years.

_Palpatine..._

Ahsoka has told her what she seems more and more convinced is the truth: that Palpatine was the Sith Lord the Jedi had been searching for, that he had been the one stringing them along and toying with them for years. That he had been the hidden figure behind the Confederacy, as well as the public one at the head of the Republic, pitting both side against each other so he could ultimately establish supreme power through constant martial state.

But she can't believe it.

She  _won't_  believe it.

Palpatine had been a mentor, and a friend, both of her family and a personal one. The Republic would have been dissolved long ago into independent - and most likely war torn - systems, with no unifying law to protect the poorest and the weakest, if not for him. He was a hero, and a martyr.

 _Another of Kenobi's lies_. 

And Anakin, of course, had believed it.

Padmé pushes her datapad aside, sighing in frustration. 

How can she measure to that? This unnatural bond that ties the man she loves to the enemy, that allows him to feed him lies like she used to feed him grapes. 

Simpler, happier times. Or maybe it's just nostalgia speaking. Thinking objectively on the earliest days of their marriage isn't easy, probably because she fears what she will find even back then. 

That Anakin was never entirely hers. That he had never been able to stick to Jedi precepts whereas his Master had been concerned - just as he had been with her. That his constant babbling of _"Obi-Wan this"_ and _"Obi-Wan that"_ had contained much less spite and annoyance than what she likes to remember, and more admiration and open - if often exasperated - affection than she could hear at the time.

"Stars, will you focus?!" she admonish herself out loud. She has so much work to do, and so little time to do it. Only less than half an hour before another meeting, and three others after that. Now is not the moment to think about things she cannot change anymore.

She hopes no one is going to ask her about the renegade fleet today.

She hasn't yet made her position on the Open Circle and its leaders clear. Which means that Amedda's last orders still stand. Let them be, as long as they don't directly attack Republic properties or units. Of course most people don't know the truth about Emberlene, and Padmé prefers it that way. Public opinion is already far too divided for her tastes, one side demanding the rogue fleet to be put down -  _And how would we even accomplish that? We don't have the men. We don't have the ships. We don't have the intel..._  - the other claiming that she isn't fit for office and that they  _need_  Kenobi and Skywalker to come back to the Republic. To lead them to victory and establish a new era of peace and stability... Through fire and fear.

This cannot happen. She _can't_ allow it to happen. _Peace_ is what must happen, and for one more reason today than a few months ago. 

She won't have her child grow up in a galaxy at war. 

Padmé smooths the folds of her dress over her stomach. She isn't showing much right now, but that won't last long. She expects some fashion channel to spot it first. Her clothing choices have always fascinated Coruscant's elite, as if there wasn't more important things to worry about... 

 _Oh, don't be a hypocrite._  Fashion has its importance. Sometimes a vital importance, when it comes to politics. She has never denied it - just look at her wardrobe. She just wishes the tightness of her dress wasn't such an important matter...

Or maybe it's just important enough.

She stares at her belly. 

Maybe there is a way she can use this. A dangerous way. But maybe it'll make Obi-Wan mad enough to at least make mistakes, and at best, let her husband go...

 

* * *

 

Caleb’s grip on Skywalker is torn away as the Jedi falls away why a strangled cry. The young and freshly blinded Keeper stumbles in the dark, a cry of his own leaving his lips but getting no more answer, except from the roar of the flames around him.

It takes him a full minute to get out - he'd been on the first floor for Force's sake! - coughing his lungs and with the sensation to be burning all over, and he's almost glad he can't see his own skin.

That's when it starts to rain. A blessed, heavy rain, that he hopes is smothering the fire. The smell of burning wood is already less strong. It soothes his aching skin and he tilts his head upward to take it in, until he finds himself shivering under the downpour. He has to find shelter. But before that... The lightsaber. He has to go back for it! 

Going back into the smoldering tower, he stumbles toward the cellar, where he remembers dropping it. Fallen beams and stones trip him and after a moment he doesn't even try to get back up, feeling his way with his hands and scrapping his knees and palms over the debris that litter the ground.

But he doesn't change his course. He knows where he has to go. 

It isn't really calling for him, like the pyramid shaped artifact - the  _holocron_  - did. But he can... He can  _feel_  it, somehow. Can sense the echo of the hundred battles fought by this beautiful weapon, can hear the whisper of the crystal within it. It's a song of sorrow and joy - it's mourning its previous owner, and welcoming Caleb as its new one - and as he closes his hand around the handle, an emotion that has nothing to do with his own predicament wells up in him.  _You were let down_ , he thinks toward the weapon.  _I won't do the same_. _I'll be a Jedi worthy of you._

It doesn't matter that he's too old, he decides at that instant. Doesn't matter that he's blind, or untrained, or alone. He will train. He will learn to see the world with his ears, his hands, his nose. Through the Force. He doesn't need the Order, though he's starting to think that the Order is going to need anyone that's willing to help. Obi-Wan Kenobi is free, and if what happened the previous night is of any indication for the future, he will set fire to the Galaxy without an afterthought.

Caleb gets up, legs a bit more steady than they were a moment before. Now that he has found the weapon, he has to find a safer shelter than the probably mostly crumbled tower. Has to find food, and a place to sleep. The basement should be intact. It's made of stone, and the walls and ceiling are thick enough that it would have withstood the weight of the structure above it falling down. He can wait there for the townsfolk to come investigate. And with a bit of luck -  _if the Force is with me_ , he thinks derisively, because that sure hasn't been the case recently - the cellar leading to it will be intact to. He hasn't had any breakfast, his stomach reminds him, and he wouldn't say no to one of those pastries he stocked there yesterday.

He hasn't made ten steps that a chime echoes on his left.

He knows that sound. It's Skywalker's comm. 

It must be Ahsoka Tano, calling to check on her former Master. Caleb has caught bits and pieces of their conversations throughout the days the Hero Without Fear has spent in his Temple. Nothing too explicit. No names of people or places. No plans of battle or political scheming. Or so it seemed. Some of the conversations he caught were to random and confusing to be anything but a code between to people who had fought and spied together.

What he got out of them is that Skywalker trusts Tano with his life and more, and she is in the know concerning Kenobi.

He could talk to her. He  _should_  talk to her. And he probably needs to, for his own sake.

Picking up the comm, he runs his finger over it until he finds a button to push, and Tano's voice echoes among the ruins. 

"Master?" She stops, probably taking him in. "Who are you? Where is..." 

"This is Caleb Dume," he interrupts her. "The Keeper of Eedit."

"Oh." Tano sounds surprised, but she seems to quickly master herself, the pitch of her voice going down as she pushes away worry and undoubtedly adopts the composure fitting to a Jedi Knight. "Yes." She shouldn't bother. Caleb can't see her and even if he could... He's too much of a mess himself to judge anyone. "Anakin told me about you. Where is he, Caleb?"

"Kenobi escaped. He set fire to the Temple." He runs trembling fingers over the mess of burnt flesh that now covers the superior part of his face. It stings terribly so he lets his hand fall pitifully in his lap. "He burnt me so I couldn't go to Master Skywalker for help. And then... He took him."

A string of expletives come through the comm, each one more colorful than the previous.

She sounds furious. And afraid. And Caleb can't stand it. 

"I'm so sorry, Master Tano," he says, and his voice breaks into a sob. "It was all my fault. I listened to him... To the voice in the holocron..."

"The holocron?! What holocron?!" 

Tano sounds even more alarmed than before, so Caleb recounts for her the events of the last days. It isn't easy, what with the shame clawing at his throat and trying to push tears through his ruined ducts, but he manages it, for her sake. For the galaxy's sake. 

"Stay were you are, Caleb," Tano says when he's done, and Caleb almost starts laughing. Where would he even go, blind and alone as he is? He's not even sure he could find the nearest town, what with the kilometers of jungle separating him from it. But he's not in the mood for laughing, so he just nods. "I'm coming to get you."

Relief washes over him. Alone would have had to do. But he's happy he won't have to be. 

 

* * *

 

Anakin and Obi-Wan are fighting in the Senate.

A rematch of Mustafar, he said to his former Master before igniting his lightsaber. Here in the heart of the Republic, right before it ceases to exist.

"This time I will stop you," the Jedi shouts, the blue plasma of his blade casting sinister shadow over his face. "Like I should have done months ago!"

His stance is assured, his words those of a man who has made his choice and will stick to it, no matter what, but his true feelings show through his eyes. They're shining with unshed tears, a plead in them that would never pass the man's lips.

Obi-Wan Kenobi has been sent by the Council to kill the man who once was his Padawan. And he'll do the Council biding, even if it destroys him. 

Anakin - no, not Anakin...  _Darth Vader_ , that's his name now - raises his own lightsaber once more, feeling an involuntary, probably manic looking smile tugging at his lips. 

"Then come at me,  _Master_. And we'll see once and for all who the Force favors..."

They run at each other, Anakin's mechanical legs propelling him with a might he's not yet fully used to. But he's a fast learner, and the Force is still with him, helping him keep his equilibrium and guiding his blow gently in the right direction whenever he overcompensate for his change in stature.

But it doesn't seem to matter how much of a fast learner he is, or how much the Force loves him. Obi-Wan is winning.

He disarms Anakin, and the red blade of his lightsaber makes the Senate's pit look like a hole leading into inferno as it falls. 

Curiously, the crimson, unnatural glow strengthens, and Anakin realizes he  _is_  looking into a fiery abyss. 

"It's over, Anakin," Obi-Wan says softly, his blue eyes sad as if he was the one who'd been defeated, mutilated, rejected...

And his blade, coming down slowly…  _Too_  slowly...

Except it’s not a lightsaber. It’s a needle, and Obi-Wan looks at him with eyes tainted of gold and flames.

“Oh hello there, Anakin. I was just going to give you the next one.”

“The next wha…”

A sting in the side of his neck. Then a haze over his sight, and then…

Anakin and Obi-Wan are fighting on Naboo, the woods and fields set aflame as far as Anakin can see…

 

* * *

 

With the way Anakin had been scaling his doses, he had been under every night and for the bigger part of his mornings, his mind being somewhat clear by noon, and fully alert by the time his apprentice usually came down to try and 'save' him

He’s giving him smaller doses, but only waits 6 hours for the next. That way Anakin doesn’t emerges of his drug fueled daze.

It's frustrating, this self imposed isolation between them. He had thought about the moment of their reunion every second he'd been awake during his captivity and probably dreamt about it when the spice was holding him. But this is necessary, and knowing that it is and that he chose it this time, the frustration is only superficial, and he feels... he feels  _calm_.

Gone is the tempest in his mind, replaced by the sound of Anakin's breathing. Gone are the visions of fire and death as his eyes rove over the the planes and angles of his face and gone is the itch to grab a lightsaber and carve into waves of enemies as his fingers run between soft locks.

Watching Anakin sleep is like touching the light again.

And he doesn't mind it right now.

This isn't the mind numbing state of Force deprivation. This isn't the utter boredom and insidious, quiet but always present despair that allowed him to slip so easily into a meditative trance before his fall -  _slip away from reality, leave those terrible, painful_ emotions _behind, in the Force you don't have to be_ strong _..._

This is... certitude. Brought by the knowledge that his beloved is safe and sound, and close to him, and that he isn't about to be taken away from him or... or  _leave_. And though, a nagging voice reminds him, Anakin isn't here because he choose it, he will be soon, he knows it and that knowledge chase away the doubt.

Certitude.

_...or blindness?_

He had been blind before.

Darth Melior frowns as he trails a finger along his apprentice's scar, the one that he carved himself into his skin, from his forehead to the top of his right cheekbone, bisecting the end of his eyebrow. He's not frowning because of it though, no, he loves that red line as he loves every inch of Anakin Skywalker, but because, suddenly, he isn't so sure... So certain... Will Anakin truly stay, once he awakes? Won't he try again to escape him, to get the upper hand in what he seems to think is some sort of  _war_  between them - no, not even between them, between the Light and the Dark, and how did this came to be? Anakin, droning on about the Code, on the other side of  _cell bars_ , as if Obi-Wan had been any random darksider that didn't deserved his true thoughts, as if their life weren't intricately bonded, as if...

This wasn't how the Anakin he knew worked. This wasn't what he believed in. He couldn't believe that it had been _his_  idea.

He shouldn't have disappeared after his fall, he shouldn't have left him out of his sight... What had he been thinking, running all across the galaxy searching for Sith artifacts, when the most valuable treasure - _weapon_ , whisper the ghosts in his head,  _our greatest weapon, born to lay waste to the Galaxy_  - had been right there on Coruscant, 

It must have been the Council! Who knows what the Masters has put in his head while Obi-Wan was away? What Padmé Amidala whispered in his ear before he left her to come  _duel_  Obi-Wan on Mustafar...

This had been their plan, just like when they'd posted snipers around Monument Plaza. With the help of Amidala. She couldn't stand the thought that Anakin could love someone else. She had wanted to get rid of him... Had probably jumped on the occasion, all the while pretending that it wasn't what she wanted, but  _she had no choice, of course_... Ha! She'd probably even convinced herself it was for the good of her beloved Republic!

Well now she would lose that too, alongside with Anakin. 

_She will lose everything._

 

* * *

 

"Lady Ventress? General Kenobi's here."

_Fucking finally._

The assassin has been given the order to come to Korriban three days ago. The thing was, she'd been there for already a week, with no orders coming from Melior in almost a month and all those he had given her already executed, she had come back to find their base half deserted, and with the remaining clones all acting too strangely for anything to be done with them. 

She spots the ship from afar. She has seen it before, one of Melior's favorites (not that he would ever admit having a favorite  _ship_ ). It lands a bit apart from the rest of the fleet, and she takes the first speeder she saws to join it - well, orders the clone driving it to drop whatever he's doing and drive her there. 

The ramp of the ship lowers itself slowly, the hydraulics spitting out steam in a dramatic way as Melior makes his way down, holding Skywalker in his arm as if his apprentice wasn't a heavier, taller man than he is. It's quite impressive, Ventress has to admit to herself, in the way that every male Force user around her like to appear. Mystical, unnecessarily mysterious and show-off-ish. She rolls her eyes and jabs the unblinking clone standing next to her with her elbow. 

"We're lucky he doesn't wear any robes, or he'd be dropping it."

The clone stays silent.

The Sith Lord lowers his charge to the ground when he reaches them, keeping his hands on his apprentice a bit longer to make sure he won't crumble, before turning to Ventress with an expectant face, as if she ought to have brought him some kind of welcoming gift. Skywalker looks drugged within an inch of his life, curled up in a blanket and eyes empty, the hand he keeps clutched to Melior's back looking like the only thing keeping him up.

The three of them got into the speeder awaiting them without a word - the clone doesn't need orders to know they're going to the Victus, or maybe Melior  _did_  gave orders, through this strange mental link he shares with the entire fleet. 

"Where the hell were you?" Ventress finally asks after a full minute of silence.

Ventress announces then, causing Melior's gaze to leave Skywalker's face - what is so interesting about it, she can't fathom - and turn on her, and she almost regrets having said anything under the laser like focus of his golden eyes.

_Get over yourself. He's no Tyrannus. And he's certainly no Sidious. You have no reason to be afraid of him._

"Held up." 

Ventress snorts.

"You mean you got yourself captured. How...  _Kenobi_  of you, Melior. And here I thought you'd stepped up your game. Left weakness behind along with your horrendous beige garb..." 

There's a flick of joined index and forefinger, and a violent blow of air, right in her face. She gasps, both in shock and in indignation.  

_He slapped me! With the Force! Oh, I'm going to kill him..._

But her hands won't move to take hold of her lightsabers. She's pinned to her seat both by the Force and by Melior's unyielding gaze.

"Call me weak once more and I'll have to find another assassin. And you don't want that, do you, my dear? You don't want my plans to fail because you would have forced me to hire someone with sub-par skills?"

"No, I don't," she forces herself to reply. "My Lord," she adds for good measure.

He nods and then orders:

"Now, report." 

She almost wishes they were still on the subject of replacing her. Almost. The news aren't good.

"We lost a third of the men."

"Oh, really?" the softness of his voice makes for a disturbing contrast with the sharpness of his stare.

"They just... disappeared. Over one night. They took small ships. No destroyers. No one has heard of them since."

Melior strokes his beard pensively. 

"Will it impair our plans?"

"I don't believe so... We still have more men than the Jedi. Or Coruscant's Police - not that _they_ are any match for us. And the Republic's troops are... Otherwise occupied. We'll be ready to move on Coruscant in a matter of days."

"Good."

"No!"

They both turn to look at Skywalker, who's trying to get up from his seat but is so feeble that he ends up just looking like he's having spasms. 

"Shhh. It's going to be okay, baby," he says to Skywalker soothingly, and Ventress tries not to gag at the sickening sweetness of his voice. 

 _'Baby'?_   _Really? Urgh._

"You can't..." Skywalker tries to protest, but he obviously doesn't have the physical strength, and he closes both his eyes and his mouth, a pout forming on his admittedly charming lips. 

"We can," Kenobi replies, petting his apprentice's hair and causing him to close his eyes with a weary sigh. "We will." And the certainty in his voice finally reassures Ventress. They are doing this. Darth Melior and Assajj Ventress will go down in history as the Sith who finally brought the Republic and  _the Jedi_ , to their knees.

She can't wait.

 

* * *

  

"General. There is something you should see."

The Clone's tone is impassible, but Obi-Wan can feel something almost... Malicious about him through the Force. As if the man is relishing the effect whatever he's about to show the Sith Lord is going to have on him. 

With a mere thought he tightens his old on the trooper's mind, until he's only an extension of his will, a sock puppet to be played with and waved around. The sinister glee in his mind disappears, but it has left a bad aftertaste, and for the first time in a long while, Obi-Wan feels uneasy.

"Show us the way," he gestures at the clone to go ahead and then follow him, with Ventress still in tow.

They have dropped Anakin in Obi-Wan's quarters, were he will rest until the spice is out of his system. After that...

_We'll see._

They stop before a holonet terminal. 

He has ordered for a pirate relay to be installed just after Anakin asked to join the war effort. Needless to say it had pissed off his apprentice - that it had taken so long, that is - right up until the moment he had started to catch up on his favorite holodrama during one of their rare sojourn on the SIth planet.

The holorecording is of a speech in the Senate, but the headlines aren't about what taxes or the finer points of a new law project. No, they're about the speaker, and her... Condition.

It's Amidala. 

She's pregnant.

 

* * *

 

_This isn't true._

Obi-Wan stares at the holo.

_It can't be true._

She doesn't even  _look_  pregnant.

_Only gossips... There is no proof..._

The footage is replaced by an another one of Amidala, this time sitting in a sofa in the Chancellor's Office. She sits regally, her dresses spread around her as if she's trying to occupy all the space available. The way they are cut, so different than what she's been wearing lately. It almost seems like...

_No._

_"Those first days have been a trial, I have to admit,"_ she says on the tone of confidence, as if she was talking to a childhood friend and not the entire Republic and then some. _"There is a lot to do, and so little time for it. But I'm not demoralized, and I'll keep working hard for the sake of the Republic and..."_  She places a slender hand on her belly. _"For the sake of my child..."_

The interviewer gasps and the furniture start to shake around Obi-Wan. Ventress steps out of the way of a datapad as it flies across the room and goes crashing into the transparisteel window.

The interview is cut short, as it is probably not the first time - nor the last - that it is transmitted, and the holo switches to two women sitting on some news show stage. 

_It can't be his, can it? They barely saw each other since..._

Another clone barges in, but Obi-Wan barely notices him, to, even as he tries to get his attention. 

 _"Now do I believe the father of this child is the notorious Hero Without Fear? Yes I absolutely do,"_  the guest, a twi'lek whose jewelry must cost enough credits to feed a small planet for an entire year, goes on with barely restrained excitement. _"And for those who think the timing isn't right, remember that he has been spotted on Coruscant the night of the Vanishing..."_

"Sir?"

Obi-Wan grinds his teeth, ignoring the trooper. _How dare she._ This had been a night that belonged to Obi-Wan and Anakin. They had been linked all throughout it, there was no way...

 _"And then there is what the Chancellor said only a minute later, that inclines me to think that it is indeed a Skywalker child that's on the way. I mean, a Jedi would know this kind of things, right?"_ the woman says with a little laugh, and the host nods fervently before proposing to watch it again.

At this point, Obi-Wan would prefer to immolate himself in one of Mustafar's hottest pools rather than watch a second more of a pregnant Amidala, but it's like he's stuck on the spot. 

_"Oh, yes, Anakin knows, and he's as thrilled as am I. We hope that the war won't keep him away that long that he won't be able to assist to the birth, but we still have about five month before that..."_

_"So you're on good terms with the leaders of the Open Circle?"_ the interviewer asks avidly.

 _"Of course, why wouldn't I? This is my_ husband _we're talking about."_

The way she says the word husband, that's what makes Obi-Wan loose it. The holoprojector explodes, sending flaming scraps all across the room.  

The trooper who as trying to get his attention takes a hesitating step forward once he's sure nothing else is going to explode.

"Sir."

"What?!"

“Ilum is under attack, sir.”

“I don’t care.”

"But sir..."

Darth Melior turns around, quick as lightning, and raises a claw like hand into the air, and the clone is projected back into the door he has just passed. He garbled sound raises from his throat, and he starts to claw at it. But nothing will keep him from choking in the Sith's grip... 

"What?!" he repeats, feeling like a broken record. But he doesn't feel like caring. Not about Ilum. Not about the suffocating trooper in his hold.

"We... We are the ones... attacking..."

"What do you mean 'we're the ones attacking'? I never ordered..."

The Clone drops to the ground as Obi-Wan realizes what is happening.

It comes to him as if the answer had always been there, and it might have been, whispered in his ear and forgotten in favor of more pressing matters, like vengeance and conquest.

The clones didn't leave on their own. The Sith Ghosts took them, and now they're looking for weapons.

He isn't sure what to make of it. It could be a good thing, if they accept to bow to his rule. He could have an army of Force users, without having train them himself. But it will most likely turn out to be a problem. Sith aren't exactly known for their team spirit. They'll more likely turn on each other - and on him - before long.  

The fuming debris of the holo catches his eye again and rage sweeps curiosity away in an unstoppable tidal wave. 

The Sith and their cloned meat suits can make freeze on Ilum for all he cares. Amidala has made her move. Now it's his turn. And after that...

She won't be able to do anything at all. 

 

* * *

 

Anakin is awaken by the door of his room sliding open and the sound of boots on the floor... No... This isn't his room. This is... A deep breath into his pillow brings the sent of Obi-Wan's to his nostrils, faint but still recognizable for someone who knows it as well as Anakin does. He's in Obi-Wan's bed. 

And Obi-Wan is standing at his bed side.

And Anakin can't feel him.

He's been cut off.

"Here. Drink this. You'll need it," Obi-Wan orders, shoving a flask into his hands. Anakin looks at it suspiciously then back up at his Master. Obi-Wan's not looking at him, and though his face is a carefully constructed mask of impassiveness, his  _body_  looks tense, and Anakin doesn't need the Force to notice how his fist are baled in anger, the barely contained violence in that simmers under his skin. Yes, he'll probably need whatever's in there.

The alcohol burns against his tongue but he feels strangely more level headed after drinking it, the left over grogginess of the spice finally leaving him. 

"Now come."

He grabs Anakin by his collar when his apprentice doesn't bulge, propelling him up and forward...

"Hey! Wait, Obi-Wan, we need to talk..."

"Shut up, Anakin."

His voice is cold and unforgiving.

"I had to do i..."

His voice is stolen by an invisible, almost intangible stripe of air across his mouth. He can still breath through his nose and his throat is free, but nothing will come out of his mouth, or into it, and he's left gaping indignantly at his Master's back. Not for long, though, because Obi-Wan turns back to face him, fury clear on his face now.

"I said shut up. You'll talk later. _We_ 'll talk later. Now I need some quiet so I don't do worse to you than what I have planned."

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath through his nose, and when he opens them back, takes hold of Anakin's arms, firmly but not harshly, and the flow of Force and air that silences Anakin disappears.  
  
"Come on."

He drag him out of the star destroyer, and toward the great ziggurat that marks the center of the base. 

"Wait, no! I'm not going in there!" 

"Yes you are!" Obi-Wan barks, making Anakin recoil. 

What has he done for his Master to be this angry at him? What is he planning to do in here? _To Anakin_ , he's said. Is this about holding him captive and drugging him? Has he finally decided that Anakin was more a hindrance than he could bother with? Does he not want them fighting alongside each other anymore now that Anakin has betrayed him?

He can't ask those questions out loud, though, because Obi-Wan waves two fingers in front of his eyes and Anakin's world goes dark once more.

 

* * *

 

Anakin has dreamed this.

He’s dreamed the high ceiling, sprawling over his head, clouded by shadows where it’s higher in the center, mimicking the form of the ziggurat above. He’s dreamed the dusty smell, the rust coloring if the stone under him. He’s remember thinking it must have been blood, and know he knows it is. Eons old blood, somehow still there, as if oxidation hasn’t dared work on it beyond darkening and drying it. Above it, red on red, though a shade lighter, are the marks Obi-Wan’s drew for his ritual, months ago. Anakin shivers just looking at them.

He’s dreamed of the chains too, but he’d never thought those would become real, and that one day he would wake up kneeling between two dark red stone pillars, held up by manacles around his wrists. He’d thought they were mere metaphors for how he’d felt tied to this place, that day he visited it in mind. How he had wanted to stay there forever, with his Master and the wicked maelstrom of the Dark Side to sustain them. Now be wished he had only his misplaced desires to fight against. They’re familiar companions. The bite of durasteel in his flesh will be forever foreign and unwelcome.

Along with a cold reality check in.

He has lost. Those chains have been put on him by the one person he was so desperate to save.

There isn’t much fight left in him, he knows it. He’s been beaten.

And his victor is nowhere to be seen. There's been no sign of him since he's waken up, and it worries Anakin even more than the chains. 

 _Aren't you going to come and gloat over your captive Jedi?_ he wonders. 

Not that Obi-Wan could hear him even if he was here. Their bond is still shining by its absence, the Force still out of reach.

He almost wishes he had stayed gone when he comes back.

"You know for the longest time, I had been blind," the familiar voice says from behind him, giving him chills - still better than jumping in surprise, he guesses, but _stars_ , that is so unnecessary...

Obi-Wan steps in front of him and there is a dagger in his hand. One that Anakin recognize. For he has dreamed about it. Has felt it pierce his skin already, and is still bearing its mark.

"But now I see. I see, have seen... so many things. Some I wish I had never seen, but I know I had to."

"What... What did you saw?" Anakin forces himself to ask.

He isn't certain he really wants to know.

“I can see it now. I am the true Sith'ari. And you…” He grabs at his hair, pulling his head backward to run his nose along Anakin’s jawline - and, oh, the things he does to him, even when he doesn't want to, maybe, especially because he doesn't want it to... "You, _Chosen One_ , you'll be my saber. My ultimate weapon. And you'll  _love_  it. You'll love  _me_." He releases Anakin, and starts pacing in front of him. His steps are nervous, his hands twitching at his sides. "Not  _her_! Not that bitch that stole you away! She will regret it soon, she'll regret ever laying her hands on you!"

 _So this is what this is about,_ Anakin thinks. _Padmé._  Then: __He wants me to_ love _him!__

"I don't love her!" he protests, all the while feeling foolish for getting his hopes up. He shouldn't even be thing about this. Shouldn't be defending himself. Shouldn't be trying to reassure Obi-Wan about his affections. Not when he's chained in the basement of a SIth Temple. Not when... _Not ever._

But he does want Obi-Wan to be reassured. And he wants him to love him _back._

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" Obi-Wan roars. "You're having a child with her!" 

"I don't want it!" Anakin cries out. _How does he knows?_  He doesn't asks. He doubts that he would get an answer. "I don't want that child! I don't want  _her_!"

"Liar!" Obi-Wan shouts, pointing his dagger at Anakin, the end of it dangerously close to his nose. "Why wouldn't you..." 

"They teared it out of me!" Anakin shouts back, pulling at his restraints frantically to get away from the shaky blade. "What I felt for her! They took it away!"

"Who?! Who took it?!" Obi-Wan shouts back, as if mindlessly, but really, there's only one kind of people that would do that. He has to know. He just wants Anakin to say it.

"The Masters! The Judgment Circle! They erased my attachment for her! Just like they wanted to do with our bond! I don't..." 

Obi-Wan's laugh sounds like madness made sound, but at last his armed hand falls back to his side.

"How _fucking convenient_..." 

"Look inside!" Anakin pleads. "There's nothing left for her! It's all...  _For you_. It's _all for you!_ "

 

* * *

 

Anakin is telling the truth.

Obi-Wan feels like a fool when he finally sees it, because, really, he should have seen it months ago. But he always had a blind spot when it came to Anakin's affections. Maybe because they're all so intense, so overwhelming. Too difficult to read and untangle. 

Anakin is telling the truth. He doesn't love Padmé Amidala. Not anymore. 

But that alone won't do. Anakin didn't chose it. He was made to forget. To endure the loss of her again and again and to grieve and move on. 

This would have never happened without his enemies' own foolish actions.

And Obi-Wan can't stand it.  

This woman will burn, he swears it to the Force. Swears it, without a word being uttered, to the chained man before him. Swears it to the stars and to the cold infinity of space. She will burn upon his blade for stealing what was his.

The dark side filling him up to the brim. It’s so strong in this place, like infused in the very atmosphere.

It fuels his anger, he knew it on some level - though he’s way past the point of caring. Makes him consider ways to relieve the itch under his skin in ways he wouldn’t even have though of before. Would have dreamed of maybe, in what he would have called nightmares - definitely not Force Visions, oh no, his past self would have denied that mere possibility, too afraid of the darkness lurking inside his heart, to weak to understand it was the way to victory.

He is owed this, whispers the Force with a thousand sibilant voices. And after the gift he has made to the Sith, it is only right for the Sith to lend him their strength, to guide his hand in the process of reclaiming his due. To see that he does not falter, even at the sound of his beloved's cries.

Because Anakin will cry tonight. He’ll cry out in agony, and in ecstasy. He’ll cry out pleases, and he’ll cry out Obi-Wan’s name. And in the end, he will fall. Finally.

Because he can, Obi-Wan kisses him, and Anakin opens his mouth for him, eager even in his distress. His mouth tastes like spice and alcohol, and Obi-Wan could spend hours just exploring the wet heat of it.

Tonight he’s staking his claim.

Releasing Anakin's hair, Oi-Wan gets up and walks around him and, grabbing to fistful of the ill-fitting, faded Jedi tunics he's wearing, rips them in half along Anakin's spine, exposing tantalizing flesh and the tense muscles underneath.

"Hey! What the...  _What are you doing?!_ "

Obi-Wan could almost let himself be distracted by the sight. Every inch of Anakin is so perfect... Even the little scars left by blaster bolts and saber blades, almost erased by bacta but still discernible, silvery wisps on satin smooth skin - they tell the story of a warrior, of a fearless hero, of a desert child that Obi-Wan helped shape into a space walking legend.

Obi-Wan stays silent, though a smile Anakin can't see forms on his lips. Those scars are lovely, but they aren't from  _him_.

Time to remedy to that.

Anakin cries out as the blade first sinks into his flesh, but it must be mostly surprise, because then he just grits his teeth, but the pain is evident in the way his body tenses, his muscles taut as durasteel wires under his skin.

Obi-Wan wants to lick them.

He doesn't though. There will be time for this later. Hours and days and  _years_. But not now. Now he has to focus on his work. 

_Shallow cuts. Don't damage the muscles. Now that's too shallow. It will barely mark..._

“You can scream you know. I won’t think less of you. Pain is pain, doesn’t matter who you are… In fact…" He leans forward to whisper in Anakin's ear. "I want to  _hear_  you.”

Anakin’s whole body shudders.

A muffled moan passes his lips and Obi-Wan twists his blade and,  _oh, there it is_. 

 

* * *

 

Pain is a red hot flare in Anakin's back. 

He has had his lot of injuries throughout the years. Blows from his master on Tatooine, burns from training sabers, then from fully powered ones, never bad enough to leave more than faint scars until he met Dooku... Then the pain of a lost limb, echoing through the years even though his arm wasn't there anymore... Blaster shots, reminding him every now and then that he wasn't invincible, that even the sharpest skills and his unrivaled connection to the Force weren't enough for him to see coming and block every attempt to his life...

This might just be the worst he has felt.

The pull and tear of his skin almost entirely masks every other sensation. He can barely hear Obi-Wan's voice over the blood that pumps in his ear, can almost forgot the bite of the manacles holding him up because the bite of his stolen dagger is so much sharper.

But there is something... Something tugging at his awareness. Something that makes his screaming slow down - he wants to  _listen_. Needs to hear what this thing calling to him is.

It's...

It's the Force!

But as his perception of it becomes more acute, he realizes that it isn't going to be of much help.

Instead of his own pain and anger, he tries to focus on the flow of the Force around him. But here, in this place consecrated to the Dark Side, it’s nothing like he’s used to - or used to be used to, before he was bonded to a Sith - and it’s even angrier than what lays inside him, like an inflamed wound in the fabric of reality. So he focus on Obi-Wan, because that’s what he does when the world around him becomes too painful to bear on his own, that’s where he goes when his mind menaces to become his prison, who he reaches for when even the Force has abandoned him…

The pain tapers down to a dull twinge, but that's all he can do, really. He can't fight his bindings - trying to move something here with the Force is like trying to push a mountain with only his bare hands - and he can't fight Obi-Wan. He isn't the Chosen One here. He's just an offering.

 

* * *

 

Anakin’s blood is on Obi-Wan's hands, his life spilling over and coating his skin with its beautiful crimson. It's hypnotizing, and a bit disturbing, if he lets himself think too much about it, but the spirits of Sith long dead are roaring their approval at this sacrifice, their shouts of ecstasy and victory both distracting him and making him feel drunk like no wine ever could. 

Anakin has ceased to scream, and now the only sound coming from him is the ragged whisper if his breath. But he’s not unconscious. Obi-Wan Can feel him, his apprentice's  mind an ethereal companion to his own, floating above the bloody display that is his carnal envelop. 

He’s observing.

“You know that’s cheating, right?" Obi-Wan asks, trying for nonchalance, but his tongue is heavy in his mouth, the taste of blood so real on it that he wonders for a moment if he has given in and actually licked some of it from Anakin's back. But that would be a bit  _too much_ , wouldn't it? "You have to let yourself feel it... Didn't I tell you I wanted to hear your voice?"

Anakin stays unresponsive, and his spirit continues to float at the other end of the bond that tethers him to Obi-Wan.

He sighs.

"This is a waste of an unique occasion, you know? Because I won’t do this again… Please, you have to accept this lesson.”

He looks down at his work. He's almost done with that part. A cut or two and it will be _perfect_.

But Anakin has to be there for it, or it wouldn't be the same.

Taking a step back, Obi-Wan considers the issue, stroking his beard pensively. He frowns as he remembers the state of his hands, but it's quickly forgotten as the solution presents itself.

He's been Anakin's Master for over a decade. He knows knows just the thing to take him out of his trance. 

The kiss is tender at first, just a brush of his lips over Anakin's cold ones. Kisses are no fun when you're the only one participating, anyway. But soon enough there's a break in the slow pattern of Anakin's breath, and Obi-Wan smirks before sliding his tongue inside Anakin's mouth, muffling the surprised moan that escapes him as he rejoin his body. 

"Mhm. That's better," he says, licking his lips and smiling benevolently as his apprentice.

"A lesson?" Anakin chuckles with a broken voice, his eyes finally focusing on Obi-Wan. "And what lesson is that,  _Master_?"

Obi-Wan's smile turns sour as the spitted out title. 

"You call me Master but you evade me when I try to teach you. You have to stop doing that Anakin... Though I have to admit it's part of your charm, it's also been the cause of so much of our problems. You know I would never have fallen if you'd listened to what I tried to teach you about attachment?"

Anakin manages to look indignant, but before he can say anything, Obi-Wan goes on: 

"That's what today's lesson is about: attachment. Possessiveness." He starts walking in circles around Anakin, bloody hands linked behind his back as if he was taking a stroll through the Temple's gardens. "Now I can admit it freely. I'm guilty of it. But i'm not ashamed. I embrace it. And you should to. That's why I'm marking you."

Anakin cranes his neck so as to keep an eye on him, but at the word "marking", his head snaps back forward, and his eyes avoid Obi-Wan's the next time he steps in front of him. 

Obi-Wan chuckles and crouches next to him, so he can deliver the rest of his lesson directly in his apprentice's ear. Without looking, he reaches out with his dagger, placing the blade on Anakin's lower back.

"So you'll remember that you are  _mine_." He punctuates the word with a shallow slice, and muffled cry comes out from behind Anakin's clenched teeth. "And I can be yours. If you can be brave enough to join me."

Not that Anakin has ever been a coward. But Obi-Wan knows he hates being called one. He has to force himself to keep a straight face when the blow hits, but barely.

"This isn't about... I'm not  _afrai... Ha!_ "

Obi-Wan shrugs dismissively. His blade clatters on the stone floor. His work is done.

"So you'll remember that you can't run away," he goes on, running his fingers over Anakin's mutilated back, savoring the way his body twists under his hand as he tries in vain to avoid contact. "And you can't turn me. But  _I_  can turn you. Because we belong together, and the only way we can be together is in the shadow."  

 

* * *

 

Anakin stays silent for a moment., trying to make sense of the turmoil inside of him. 

Pain has taken a backseat for the moment, and in the pilot's place is a litany of " _together, together, together..._ "

"Do you..." His throat is dry and the words are hard to get out. He licks his lips, swallow. "Do you really mean it?"

Obi-Wan's cups his face gently. His fingers are wet with Anakin's blood, but he doesn't find it in himself to mind. 

"Would I go to such extremities if I didn't?"

"But..."

But  _what_? Why is he still fighting when he has already lost? When he can't even make himself fear, or hate the man who has been bleeding him for he doesn't even know how long? When he can feel fear and hate in his heart - hate for himself, who was too weak to prevent his Master's fall and too weak to bring him back, hate for Padm" Amidala, who couldn't leave him alone, who had to make him break the Code and his Master's heart, for the Jedi, for a hundred or so reasons - but not for him, never for him... And this realization makes him weep, tears flowing unrestrained as he looks up at the face of his Master. 

Anakin is done. Done fighting for this. Done resisting the irresistible, avoiding the unavoidable.

He feels suddenly like he’s been on borrowed time, as if the Force has allowed him those few months to try and battle it’s will, see how long he would stand in that grey area between it’s facets, but has never really intended for him to win. He had though this was a test. A way to prove he was worthy of the title of Chosen One. Turns out he was only played with. And lied to. Bring balance to the Force? Ha! He couldn’t even keep balance within himself!

"Shhh, don't cry," Obi-Wan says softly, wiping his tears away with his thumb. "It'll be alright, you're almost there. Just let go of the Light. You know it's a lie. You know you don't need it. Just let go of it and  _join me_."

So that's what he does. Turning away from the the pinprick of Light that managed to survive inside of him, he turns to the dark - but is it really? Dark? It has a glow to it, somehow, like embers shining under soot - mass that is Obi-Wan Kenobi in his mind eye, and as he embraces it, the fangs of the Dark Side sink into the cracks he has allowed to form in his very being, and he lets the crack spread under the force of the bite, lets himself break. 

 _You win_ , he thinks toward his Master, his lips unwilling to move. But he can see he's heard him. In the way his eyes go wide and an incredulous wisp of laughter escapes his lips.  _You win_ , he thinks at the ghosts that still haunt this place, and he can hear their gleeful shouts.  _You win_ , he thinks at the Dark Side, and he can feel it take him over, surround him in a warm, loving embrace. It's like being held by his mother, he thinks, or maybe like a father, because his mother would hold him to protect him, make him know he's safe and loved, while the Dark Side... Uses their connection to force its will through him.

It burns through him, a wildfire of dark intent, a chaotic wind that strips him of any remnant of the Light. Not that there was much left, he realizes now... A pinprick indeed. So small and weak it had been like a star already dead, the light of it still coming through only because it had been so far away.

And it feels... It feels amazing. It feels like raw, untapped  _power_. Like something he could only get a glimpse of before, when he had control...  _Control_... Such an overrated concept. Now he can see... There's better. There's letting go, not of his emotions, but of the shaky, tired hold he had on them. There's being free of any constraints, of the responsibilities the Jedi Order put on him. There's loosening the tight grip he's always had over his powers, since he was a child, and his mother would ask him to not attract attention. A Force user was worth a fortune in the Outer Rim... But he's not a slave anymore. And he's not a Jedi.

Anakin's unleashed.

A deep rumble echoes through the Sith Temple, followed not long after by the very ground underneath the two men starting to shake. 

And then, Anakin finally passes out.

 


End file.
